


Echoes of Vesuvius

by grimmlin



Series: Dreaming of Vesuvius [2]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Alternate Universe - Ancient Rome, Angst with a Happy Ending, Castiel & Inias Friendship, Castiel & Meg Masters Friendship, Child Neglect, Dreams and Nightmares, Drug Addiction, Emotional Hurt, Eventual Romance, Explicit Sexual Content, Fishing, Fluff and Angst, M/M, Minor Character Death, Minor Original Character(s), Non-Consensual Drug Use, Period-Typical Homophobia, Pining, Poor Castiel (Supernatural), Soulmates, Student Castiel (Supernatural)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-10
Updated: 2019-08-30
Packaged: 2020-04-24 08:52:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 16
Words: 100,790
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19169896
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/grimmlin/pseuds/grimmlin
Summary: Castiel had to grow up quickly. With a mother more interested in drinking and getting high than taking care of her son, he has no one to rely on besides himself. Through years of treading carefully around his mother, providing for himself however he can, and somehow keeping up with school, Castiel has always found escape in the bright green eyes of his best friend. His only friend.As they age, their relationship transforms. What was meant to be a simple contract between master and slave morphs into a soul-deep bond that death itself cannot pry apart, however it may try.The downside is, Dean only exists in his dreams.This is Castiel’s side of In the Shadows of Vesuvius. If you haven’t yet, I recommend that you read Dean’s side of the story first. You can find that story here: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18172421





	1. Six

**Author's Note:**

> Here we go! The mirror story of Shadows of Vesuvius, aka Cas' side of the story. I'm so excited to share this one! If you haven't I recommend you read Dean's side first, there are some parts that will make more sense that way. Just so you know, most of Cas' dreams are different than Dean's in Shadows. 
> 
> Only the dreams of Cas and Dean's major milestones are the same because I felt Cas' side is pretty darn important in those. There will be smut, eventually, but I do not write underage. Ever. So y'all have to wait until they're both eighteen for things to get graphic. I'm not sorry.

Cas is sitting and waiting on the bench outside his school. He’s been here for hours, swinging his little legs back and forth since he’s still too small to touch the ground. He’s tired, hungry, and he wants to go home. Today is his birthday, mommy was supposed to come to pick him up after school. She promised him pizza for his birthday treat but school was over two hours ago, and she still isn’t here.

Cas can feel tears welling in his eyes, knowing that he’s been forgotten again and he’s going to have to walk home by himself.

“Castiel? What are you still doing here, sweetie?” His teacher’s normally excited tone sounds dull and full of worry, even to Castiel’s young ears.

Cas turns his wide blue eyes to Ms. Rosen as he chews on his lip to hide the tremble of oncoming tears. “My mom’s late,” He mutters, trying not to sound as scared as he feels. “M’sure she’ll come soon.”

Ms. Rosen crouches down in front of him and places her delicate hands on his knees. “I’ll wait with you then,” She says with a smile as she reaches into her purse. “Are you hungry?”

Castiel’s eyes widen when he sees the Hershey chocolate bar she pulls from her purse with a gleaming smile that’s all teeth and squinty eyes. Castiel nods and cracks a smile as Ms. Rosen peels back the wrapper and takes the seat next to him on the bench. He loves chocolate!

“So, today’s your birthday, huh?” She says brightly with a tight smile as she hands Castiel a section of the chocolate. She takes some for herself, and a look of bliss settles over her face as she takes a small bite.

Cas nods and bites off a mouthful of chocolate. “Mommy’s going to take me out for pizza,” He grins, momentarily forgetting that his mom is already two hours late.

“That sounds like fun!” Ms. Rosen grins. Castiel is such a sweet little boy, albeit usually a bit untidy. His deep chestnut colored hair is slightly too long and looks as if it hasn’t been washed in a few days. The dark ringlets hanging down in his face make his crystalline blue eyes pop against his pale skin. The fact that little Cas has been wearing the same shirt for three days hasn’t escaped his teacher’s notice and she can’t help but worry for the boy.

Castiel grins around his mouthful of chocolate. “I love pizza.”

“What’s your favorite kind?” Ms. Rosen questions, intent on keeping the conversation going. She waves absently to the other teachers as they give the pair curious looks on the way to their cars and then checks her watch. School let out two and a half hours ago. All the kids should have been picked up by now.

“Pepponi” Cas mumbles through another bite of chocolate. He turns to Ms. Rosen and gives her a chocolate-smeared grin, oblivious to his mispronunciation of the word.

The teacher smiles and nods her agreement. “Pepperoni is very good.” She hands Cas another row of the little chocolate squares and then ruffles the boy’s greasy hair fondly as her heart sinks. “How about we go inside and call your mom, honey?”

“Okay!” Cas quips as he hops up from the bench and grabs his oversized backpack and swings it over his small shoulders.

Ms. Rosen stands and smooths her dress before collecting her purse and capturing Castiel’s small hand in hers to take him back into the school. The halls are deserted and the clack her heels echo through the locker-lined hallway.

She leads Cas past her classroom to the center of the small school and into the main office. “Have a seat, Castiel,” she says warmly as she releases his hand and nudges him toward the line of kindergarten-sized chairs against the wall. “This should only take a minute.”

“Ok, Ms. Rosen,” Cas smiles, oblivious to the unease in his teacher’s expression. He drops his bag on the floor and flops into a chair, the chocolate in his hand has become half melted, so he takes to licking the sticky candy from his fingers as Ms. Rosen flits through the student files to find Ms. Novak’s contact information.

“I’ll be right back sweetie, you stay right there, ok?” She asks the small boy and Cas gives her a happy smile and a nod. Becky lets herself into the Principal’s office to make the call in private. There are no secrets in their small town, and Castiel’s mother is famous for all the drama she causes. Ms. Rosen’s stomach twists into knots as her fingers push the numbers to reach Naomi Novak, the town drunk.

No one knows who Cas’ father is and considering who his mother is, that is probably for the best. If she’s forgotten her own son on his birthday, Naomi has likely lost herself in the bottom of a bottle by now. Becky takes a deep breath as she hits the final number and brings the phone to her ear to wait.

She counts to six rings before a click tells her the phone on the other end has been picked up.

“Whad’ya’wan?” A raspy voice slurs and Becky cringes, heart aching for the little boy in the next room.

“Ms. Novak? This is Becky Rosen, Castiel’s teacher?” Becky starts, trying to keep her tone light despite her irritation with the woman on the other end of the line. “Castiel is still here at the school waiting for his ride home,” She says, trying not to sound like she’s accusing the woman of forgetting about her son.

 “Send’im’ome then,” Naomi slurs and Becky sighs.

“I cannot allow him to walk home, that is against school policy.” Becky’s tone becomes impatient. Who in their right mind would allow a newly six-year-old to walk two miles through town alone?

 “I’dun’care about school policy,” Naomi mumbles, beginning to sound angry.

 _Well excuse me for asking you to care about your son_ is what Becky wants to say but she swallows down her irritation. “Well, may I have your permission to take Castiel out for a birthday dinner and then bring him home afterward?” Becky has had enough of this woman already and the words leave her mouth before she has a chance to consider.

“I dun’care what you do with’im,” Naomi grumbles into the phone and then a resounding click comes before the line fills with the dull grind of the dial tone.

Becky clenches her jaw and slams the phone into the receiver. Her cheeks heat with anger as she places her hands flat on the principal’s desk and leans over to try to calm herself. Her eyes brim with tears for the little boy and she shakes her head sadly. No child deserves a parent like that, but there is so little that Becky can do to help.

What she can do, is give Castiel a good birthday.

She straightens her posture and dabs the stray moisture from her eyes, putting on a happy smile before leaving the secluded office and facing the boy in the next room.

“How would you like to go get pizza with me tonight?” She says brightly when Castiel’s bright blue eyes lift to meet hers as she emerges. “Your mom is awfully busy right now, but she asked me to take you to dinner.”

 Castiel cocks his head at her, a pose she’s seen the boy take quite often when he’s thinking. He’s a smart kid and Becky can’t help but feel like he can see right through her lie. “Can we go to Pizza Hut?” Cas finally asks, tone slightly suspicious but willing to accept this change of plans.

Becky smiles and crouches down to meet Cas at eye level. “We can go wherever you want, sweetie. It’s your birthday.” She reaches a hand to brush Castiel’s cheek gently. He looks like a cherub with his hair this long. She can’t help but smile at way his eyes brighten at her words. “Pick up your bag and we can go.”

Cas jumps to his feet and swings the backpack over his shoulders. The thing is almost as big as he is, and Becky isn’t certain how he manages to carry such a large bag. It isn’t a child’s backpack. The black bag is beaten up and worn, tearing at the seams. Becky wouldn’t be surprised if it belonged to his mother when she was in school. Or if she pulled it from a dumpster to give her son.

“Ready?” Becky asks as she holds out her hand for Castiel to take.

“Yes, Ms. Rosen,” Cas says as he happily takes her hand and lets her lead him from the office.

By now, the other teachers have all gone and Ms. Rosen gives a nod to Gabriel, the janitor as she leads Castiel from the building.

“Hey!” Gabriel calls just before they reach the doors and he jogs up to them before he drops into a crouch in front of Castiel. “I hear it’s somebody’s birthday today!” Gabriel says with a grin as he pulls the large sucker from his mouth.

A grin lights across Castiel’s face and he nods and Ms. Rosen smiles down at the janitor and the little boy in her care.

“Happy Birthday, munchkin!” Gabriel croons as he pulls a fresh lollipop from the breast pocket of his coveralls and holds it out in front of Castiel. He bops Cas gently on the nose and draws a happy laugh from the boy. Gabe can’t help but smile back as he glances up to meet Becky’s gaze.

Cas reaches for the candy with a happy smile. “Thank you, Gabe!” Cas quips eagerly and without prompting as the janitor ruffles his hair playfully.

“Now get out of here and enjoy your birthday!” Gabriel says as he pushes himself back to his feet and leans close enough to Ms. Rosen to whisper without Castiel hearing. “I heard you in the office. You’re taking him out for dinner?” Gabriel whispers as he watches Cas unwrap the cherry flavored blow-pop.

Becky nods with a shrug. “You know how his mom is…” She starts but trails off, not needing to finish the sentence.

“That woman doesn’t deserve this little angel,” Gabriel mutters with a hard edge to his tone. “I’ll be done here in a little over an hour, could I treat the two of you to Dairy Queen before you take him home?” Gabriel asks Becky but loud enough for Cas to hear.

“Would you like that, Castiel?” Becky questions the boy with a smile playing on her lips and Castiel nods emphatically.

“Please!” Castiel says with a wide and irresistible grin.

“Alright,” Gabe says with a laugh. “Call me when you’re done with dinner.” He turns to Becky with a smile that doesn’t meet his eyes and he can see the sadness reflected in Becky’s gaze.

Thankfully, Castiel has no idea of the silent conversation the adults are having as he happily sucks on the candy. This is turning into the best birthday!

Gabriel turns away to go back to his work after ruffling Castiel’s hair one last time. “Have fun, buddy,” He says as he turns away with a fond smile on his face.

“You ready?” Ms. Rosen asks as she leans down to tickle Castiel’s ribs.

The boy shrieks with laughter and breaks away to run toward the door to the parking lot. Becky doesn’t have the heart to remind him not to run inside, and soon they’re bursting through the door as Cas runs to the few cars still in the parking lot.

“Buckle up,” Becky reminds him as Cas slides into her backseat after she takes his backpack from him.

Cas complies without complaint and the drive to the Pizza Hut goes quickly.

Becky orders Castiel his own personal pizza, loaded with pepperoni and watches with satisfaction as the boy digs in happily.

Cas laughs as he picks up a slice and cheese strings all the way to his plate. He tries to catch the string in his mouth but only succeeds in getting sticky cheese stuck to his chin. He stops, looking across the table with wide eyes, a small spark of fear sets in when he realizes how much of a mess he’s making and he tenses, waiting for rebuke.

Ms. Rosen only smiles and wipes his chin with a napkin. Cas is certain that Momma would have yelled at him.

He eats a little slower, a little more subdued as he watches Ms. Rosen pick at her salad. He’s glad to be able to be here with her but still sad that his mom was too busy to take him. She’s always too busy or too tired.

An hour passes quickly, and soon Becky is feeding a quarter into the payphone to call Gabriel. The man should be home by now and she is grateful for his offer to take Castiel out for ice-cream. The little boy doesn’t relate well with his classmates and has yet to really make any friends despite his kindergarten year nearly being over. Usually kids his age flock together easily, but Castiel is different in a way that Becky blames on his upbringing.

He’s far more mature than most of the kids his age, and he’s smart. So very smart. He can already read at a second-grade level and school librarian absolutely adores her favorite little bookworm.

For the life of her, Becky can’t understand Naomi’s disinterest in her son.

Gabriel says he’ll meet them at Dairy Queen in twenty minutes, he has one quick errand to run first and Becky smiles into the phone. She has a suspicion of what Gabriel might be doing and she’s certain Castiel is at the center Gabe’s plan.

Gabriel might be a prankster, but he has a genuine love for the students of their little school.

Especially ones who don’t have a good home life.

“Ready to go get ice cream?” Becky asks, forcing joy into her tone despite her unhappy thoughts.

Cas grins and shakes his head happily. “Yes, please,” He says, ever the polite little boy, as he scoots from the bench seat and holds out his hand for Becky to take. He was confused when Ms. Rosen first offered to take him out for dinner but then he assumed that his mommy wanted her to. Ms. Rosen has always been so nice to him, nicer than his classmates at least. And Gabe always gives him candy! He must be nice if he hands out candy all the time.

He’s careful to hold Ms. Rosen’s hand just like they do at school whenever they leave the classroom. He doesn’t want to get lost or get in trouble.

He even remembers to buckle up without being told and he sits in the back seat with a wide smile, legs bouncing with excitement. “Momma never takes me for ice cream,” He says, looking up to meet Ms. Rosen’s eyes so she can see how excited he is. “This is the best birthday ever!”

Becky smiles in the rear-view mirror at the happy little boy and feels a surge of anger for his misfortune in the parent he was given. He deserves better.

Every child deserves better.

The line at the Dairy Queen is out the door when they arrive, but somehow Gabriel already has a table secured, complete with a small cake with a wrapped present sitting next to the chocolatey confection.

“Gabe!” Cas shouts and runs to the janitor as soon as Ms. Rosen points him out. “Is that for me?” He asks, maybe a little too loud but he can’t help it. There's a present! And a cake! This is so wonderful! He bounces on his heels as he stares at Gabe’s crooked smile with worship in his eyes.

“Sure is, buddy,” Gabe pats the seat next to him. “You gotta sit down though if you want any of this ice cream cake.”

Castiel hurries to comply, nearly vibrating with excitement. “Ice cream cake?” He asks with a tilt of his head. He’s never heard of one of those.

“Yessiree,” Gabe quips with a grin as he reaches for a lighter to light the six little candles sitting atop the cake.

Ms. Rosen takes the seat across from Gabe and Castiel with a soft smile and starts separating plates.

“Ice cream cakes are the best kind of cake you see, they have a layer of cake...surrounded by ice cream!” Gabe says dramatically as he lights the candles. Once he’s finished, he drapes an arm around Castiel’s small back and nudges him forward. “You gotta make a wish now, but don’t tell us or it won’t come true,” Gabriel explains and watches the flames flicker with wide eyes. “Got it?”

Castiel nods, already knowing what he wants to wish for. _I wish for a best friend._ All the kids at school seem to have one, but nobody ever wants to play with him. He wants that to change.

“Alright, now blow!” Ms. Rosen says and Castiel does.

“I got them all!” He cheers excitedly, clapping his chubby little hands as he bounces in his seat.

“You sure did, buddy,” Gabriel says as he gives the boy a light hug before cutting the cake.

By the time Cas is finished with his piece, he has chocolate ice cream all around his mouth and dripping down his chin.

Gabriel cleans him up with a laugh as Ms. Rosen takes his plate. “Alright squirt, I got you a little something. I hope you like it.”

“A present?” Cas asks with wide eyes.

Gabe nods and pushes the brightly wrapped bundle toward the grinning little boy.

Cas’ hands pause over the wrapping paper and his touch becomes reverent. He looks to Ms. Rosen and Gabe and finds his eyes beginning to water. He sniffs back the tears threating to run down his cheeks and his little chest squeezes with hurt and happiness at the same time. His mommy should be here. She _promised_.

“Sweetie, what's wrong?” Ms. Rosen coos as she reaches across the table to brush a tear from Castiel’s cheek.

Gabriel looks concerned, gaze flitting between the boy and his teacher as Cas digs his tiny little fingers into the wrapping paper. “Cassie, don’t cry,” Gabe mutters and tugs the boy onto his lap, cradling him gently.

“I wish my mommy was here. She promised,” Cas whimpers as he fights back more tears. “She’s always busy.”

Gabe huffs and shakes his head at the same time Becky frowns and takes one of Castiel’s hands in hers.

“I know, Castiel. I know,” She comforts, and Cas does his best to stop crying.

He’s confused. His Mommy always gets mad when he cries, but Gabe and Ms. Rosen pulled him closer instead of yelling at him. “Thank you,” He says, knowing the words are expected. He would get in trouble if he doesn’t say thank you.

“You’re welcome, Castiel,” Ms. Rosen says warmly, giving his hand a squeeze before letting go. “Now, how about you open your present?”

“Okay!” Cas says, regaining some of his former excitement. He tears into the paper, still settled on Gabe’s lap and his grin all but explodes when he sees what is hiding beneath the paper.

“A backpack!” He cheers, holding up the brightly colored bag. “Bees!” He’s so excited that he’s nearly bouncing, and Gabriel has to set him on the floor so he can try the bag on.

Cas tugs on the straps and Ms. Rosen helps him shift it onto his back. “It fits!” He grins, hands holding tightly to the black and yellow straps hanging off his shoulders.

This backpack is so cool! He can hardly wait to show it off at school tomorrow. The main part is stripped like a bumble bee and the top has a big smiley face. Cas slips the bag from his shoulders and turns it around to look closer. There are cute little wings on the side and antennae coming out the top.

“Do you like it?” Gabe asks, smiling down at the overjoyed little boy.

“Yes!” Cas cries and throws his arms around Gabe’s knees. “Thank you!”

Gabe laughs and pats Cas’ shoulder. “I’m glad you like it, buddy.”

Cas is so busy staring with wonder at the backpack that he misses when Ms. Rosen mouths the words “Thank you.” across the table to the school janitor.

Gabriel answers with a firm nod and soft smile as if there is nowhere he would rather be than right here, helping a little kid he barely knows have a good birthday.

The sun is low in the sky and the ice cream shop is considerably less busy now. Ms. Rosen looks at her watch with a frown before tapping Cas on the shoulder. “I need to get you home, sweetie. Your mom will be wondering where you are,” She says, trying to smile despite the heavy pit forming in her stomach.

A quick glance to Gabe shows the man is feeling much the same.

Even Castiel’s expression falls. “Oh, ok,” He mutters, hugging his new bumblebee backpack tightly to his small chest.

“Have a good night, squirt. I’ll see you tomorrow, yeah?” Gabriel says, crouching down to eye level with the kid.

Cas nods and gives a small smile. He would look almost shy if Gabe didn’t know better.

“I’ll see you tomorrow, Gabriel. Thank you for doing all this,” Ms. Rosen says as she takes Cas’ hand.

“Glad to help,” Gabe answers easily as Beck leads the boy away.

He lets out a deep sigh when they’re out of earshot and shakes his head. “Poor kid.”

“Buckle up, Cas,” Ms. Rosen chides when Castiel immediately begins pulling his things out of his old backpack and shoving them into the new one. At least Gabriel had the foresight to clip off the tags.

“Yes, Ms. Rosen,” Cas chimes automatically. He immediately puts the bags on the seat next to him and fastens his belt. He knows better than to not listen.

The drive to Castiel’s house goes quickly. Becky already knew he lived on the poorer side of town, not far from school, but she has to ask him for the final directions and then walks him to his front door with his hand held tightly in hers.

Cas wears his new backpack and holds his old one as they wait for his mom to come to the door.

Ms. Rosen knocks a second time and they both tense as a shout to go away comes through the door.

“Ms. Novak? I’m bringing Castiel home!” Ms. Rosen shouts as she knocks a third time.

Her knock is interrupted by the door swinging inward to reveal a very disgruntled looking woman.

Her only resemblance to her son is in the eyes. Except, where Castiel’s blue eyes are bright and full of wonder, Naomi’s are dull and nearly lifeless.

“Get in here, brat. Been wonderin where the ‘ell you been,” Naomi slurs and sways on her feet, fixing Becky with a stern glare.

“Yes, mommy,” Cas mutters, voice small and timid, a tone Becky has never heard from him.

“Ms. Novak...” Becky starts but she’s cut off quickly.

“If your expectin thanks for bringin the little shit home your barkin up the wrong tree,” Naomi grumbles as she makes to slam the door in the teacher’s face.

“It’s not that, it’s just that Castiel is such a good little boy...” Becky tries again but a loud snort from Naomi stalls her words.

“He’s nothin but a pain in my ass,” Naomi grumbles and finally slams the door, leaving Ms. Rosen to stand stunned on the doorstep.

She knew Castiel’s home life wasn’t ideal, but this is worse than she had expected. How could a woman clearly not care about her child? Ms. Rosen looks back at the house sadly as she walks to her car. There isn’t anything she can do.

She might be able to convince the police to look into a case of neglect, but she knows that Naomi is meeting the minimum levels of care for the boy. He’s fed, clothed and has a roof over his head. Unless he’s being physically abused, and Becky doesn’t think he is, the court won’t take Cas away from his mother.

No matter how miserable a parent she might be.

Becky sighs and shakes her head sadly as she stares at her steering wheel. She spares one last glance at the house before turning the key in the ignition and driving away with a knot of dread in the pit of her stomach.

There's nothing she can do except be there for Castiel at school.

She only hopes that’s enough.

\---

As usual, Cas’ mommy ignores him as he gets ready for bed. Which is okay. Ignoring him is better than yelling. She drinks her special juice that he isn’t allowed to touch while he changes into his jammies and crawls into bed.

Hopefully, she’ll be awake to take him to school tomorrow so he doesn’t have to walk.

He likes school better than home, so he’s careful to make sure he doesn’t sleep too long and he gets ready on time.

He settles down under his scratchy covers and thinks about the wish he made.

All he wants is a friend. Someone who will play with him instead of teasing him. Someone his age.

Castiel eventually drifts off to sleep, imagining his perfect friend.

_Green eyes. That is the first thing Castiel notices when his father walks him through the rows and rows of cages. Men and women of all ages sit behind those bars, none daring to look up and meet his eyes. Until the boy with green eyes._

_“Pappa, I want to look at that one,” Castiel says, letting go of his father’s hand. It’s his birthday, and he’s old enough for his very own slave._

_When his mother had told him, he had been almost afraid. Lucius has always been there for him, taking care of him and sometimes even playing with him. He doesn’t need anyone else._

_“Alright son, but remember...we’re looking for a slave, not a playmate,” His father says, not unkindly._

_“Yes, father,” Cas mutters dutifully. He just wants to go see the boy with those bright green eyes._

_Castiel doesn’t think the boy knows that Cas saw him looking. None of the others here have raised their chins to meet his eyes and he can’t help but curious about this strange little boy._

_Cas studies him as he approaches. The boy is smaller than him, but not by a lot. He’s too thin and covered in dirt and raised welts where he’s been beaten by the slave traders. Cas may only be six, but he knows that slaves are beaten when they’re bad._

_This boy doesn’t look bad though._

_He looks scared._

_“Why are you crying?” Castiel asks as he rests his hands on the bars between them._

_The other boy looks up suddenly, eyes red with tears as a sob wracks his small chest. He visibly trembles and Castiel’s heart aches at the sight._

_The boy’s eyes are the most vivid green Castiel has ever seen. Greener than the trees, greener than the moss that grows along the side of his villa. Castiel knows he could lose himself in those eyes if he isn’t careful._

_“I miss my mom,” The green-eyed boy finally mutters as he shifts onto his knees and bows his head._

_Castiel immediately hates the submissive pose and he feels the need to comfort the other boy wash over him. “I’m Castiel,” he says, probably with a little too much cheer but he can’t help it. He doesn’t understand why this boy is locked in a cage and made to cry._

_Dean looks up through his lashes at him, still trembling but he manages a weak smile. “I’m Dean.”_

_“What’d you find here, son?” Pappa comes to stand next to Cas and puts a harm hand on his shoulder._

_“This is Dean, Pappa!” Castiel looks up to the man with a happy grin. “I like him. Can we take him home?” Cas cocks his head, wanting nothing more than to be friends with this other boy. Dean is hurt and something deep inside Castiel knows he needs help._

_“I don’t know,” Cas’ father says doubtfully. “I think an older slave would be able to do more,”_

_“Pappa, Please!” Castiel whines, drawing out each syllable and grabbing hold of his father’s hand to tug. “I don’t want an old slave!”_

_Castiel is ready to get on his knees and beg. Or cry. Tears always get him what he wants with Pappa. Mother is stricter, but Cas knows his Pappa would do anything for him._

_Castiel’s father sighs and shakes his head in defeat. “I’ll look into it. Be good.” Castiel’s father pats the boy on the shoulder and strides away._

_“Do you want to come home with us, Dean?” Castiel returns to the bars, his tone earnest._

_Dean watches him carefully, barely meeting his eyes, but his posture softens the more Castiel talks._

_"Today's my birthday! I just turned six and Pappa said I could get my very own slave today! How old are you, Dean?" Castiel babbles excitedly, gesturing wildly with his hands in hopes to comfort the other boy._

_Dean smiles just a little and warmth blooms in Castiel’s chest as he grins back at the boy. Cas reaches a hand through the bars just as Dean gives his answer._

_“I’m five,” Dean’s voice is small, but the boy begins to uncurl himself from his position on the floor._

_Cas grins even wider when Dean reaches his hand out to brush their fingers together. He reaches just a little farther to clasp Dean’s hand in his own. He always feels better when Pappa holds his hand, so maybe that will help Dean too._

_Dean stumbles back, ripping his hand from Castiel’s when Cas’ father returns with one of the traders, but Dean isn’t allowed to go far._

_The older man wrenches open Dean’s cage and drags Dean out before he can get out of reach and Cas wrinkles his nose at the strong stench radiating from the slave trader. He smells like old wine and the urine pots along the street._

_“Stand still boy!” The man growls and Cas can see how Dean trembles at the man’s touch._

_Castiel immediately steps forward and wraps his arms tight around Dean’s shoulders. “It’s ok Dean. You’re coming home with us.”_

_“Come along Castiel. Your mother will be waiting,” Castiel’s father sighs and shakes his head in resignation._

_Cas already knows his mother isn’t going to be happy with Dean. She told him to choose an older slave, younger than Lucius but still old enough to take care of him._

_Dean is too young, just a boy. Like him._

_Cas’ eyes narrow as the slave trader begins to coil the thick rope around Dean’s wrists. How dare he touch Dean! “Pappa! Why is he doing that?” Castiel stomps his foot, glaring towards the offending man._

_“We don’t want him to run away,” Castiel’s father answers simply as if tying a child up was an everyday occurrence._

_“Dean isn’t going to run. He’s my friend!” Castiel pouts, meaning the words with all his heart._

_“Don’t matter.” The slave trader grumbles. “And don’t go getting attached to a slave, boy. No good’ll come of it.”_

_Castiel feels anger rising in him and he doesn’t like the feeling. He starts to open his mouth to protest, trying to protect his new friend, but he’s silenced by his father’s hand on his shoulder._

_“That’ll be enough. He’s just a boy, not like he could run off even if he wanted to.” Castiel’s father’s voice is gentle and Cas is silently grateful._

_Dean doesn’t need to be tied up. He isn’t bad. He’s Castiel’s friend._

_Castiel’s father hands the end of Dean’s rope to him and Cas grins as he steps toward Dean. “Come on Dean! Let’s go home.” He claps Dean on the shoulder and drops the rope, letting it hang to Dean’s feet._

_\---_

When Castiel wakes the next morning with a wide yawn, he’s certain his birthday wish has come true.

Dean.

Dean is going to be his very best friend.


	2. Eight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Eight-year-old Cas is forced to leave everything he knows behind for a place he's never been. Luckily, Dean is still there for him in his dreams.

“Pack your bags, Castiel. We need to be out of here by tomorrow,” Naomi waves her hands carelessly before turning away to throw the contents of her kitchen into rickety looking boxes.

Cas stands and stares, not quite comprehending until his mother shoves a roll of garbage bags into his hands.

“Get packing!” She snaps and Cas startles out of his confused stupor.

“We’re moving?” Castiel tilts his head, not quite willing to believe the scene in front of him. He looks around the dingy living room and the remains of the kitchen quickly, searching for freshly emptied bottles that might explain his mother’s actions.

He can’t decide if his mother’s steady speech and lack of alcohol bottles are more unnerving than her normal stupor or not.

“Yes, you stupid boy. We’re moving. To Florida.” Naomi turns to face him with hands on her hips. “Now GO PACK YOUR THINGS!”

Cas sucks in a sharp breath, internal panic already setting in. “I don’t want to go,” He whines timidly, already recognizing that his protests will get him nowhere.

Naomi scowls and stomps toward him, landing a harsh slap across his cheek. “Do not talk back to me,” She sneers before turning away like tears aren’t welling in Castiel’s eyes and his cheek isn’t turning red from her hand.

“But my school…” Cas tries again as he clutches the black garbage bags to his chest. He doesn’t want to leave Ms. Rosen or Gabriel. They take care of him. He loves them. Tears escape his eyes as his heart aches.

They love him too, and now he’s expected to just leave?

“I don’t care, Castiel. Go pack your things and put them in the car.” Naomi leans against the counter with her hands planted firmly on the edge as if she’s struggling to stay upright. “We need to leave,” She refuses to look at her son’s tear-stained face.

            Cas swallows down his sob and turns to go to his room. He won’t win an argument with his mom and he knows it. So, he shoves everything he cares about into the trash bags with tears streaking down his small cheeks.

Naomi orders them pizza for dinner, a rare treat, but Cas can barely bring himself to eat. His mom is strangely sober, and that alone makes Castiel worry. She refuses to explain _why_ they’re moving, or even where to exactly.

Not that Cas would know where anything is anyway. Florida? That’s so far away. Castiel has never left the small suburb of Chicago he was born in. How is he to know anything about Florida?

He doesn’t want to go, but he has no choice.

“Brush your teeth and for the love of god, wash your hair.” Naomi gives one of his greasy locks a sharp tug. “We’re leaving first thing tomorrow,” She continues as she points Castiel toward his small bathroom.

His shower quit working weeks ago and Naomi hasn’t bothered to have it fixed. It doesn’t matter now, he thinks, not if they’re leaving. He’ll just wash in his sink like he’s been doing and hopefully, Naomi will be satisfied with the results.

The only time she cares is when she’s sober anyway.

As he dips his head under the cold running water, the hot water gave out last month, he hopes that his mom will get drunk again and change her mind before morning. Maybe she’ll let him stay.

He doesn’t mind washing like this. Dipping his head into the small sink basin reminds him of how Lucius helps him bathe in his dreams.

A smile creeps over his features at that thought. At least Naomi can’t take Dean from him.

Lately, Dean has taken over helping to wash Castiel, and the boy’s gentle touch makes Cas want to be cleaner when he’s awake too.

He uses the last of his shampoo and as he scrubs his scalp, he lets his mind wander, wondering what he might dream about tonight.

Maybe he and Dean will go on an adventure. Or Pappa might take Cas to work with him to watch all the old men talk and make rules for everyone else to follow.

Cas wishes he had a dad like his dream Pappa.

Once his hair is clean and towel dried, he brushes his teeth. He’s out of toothpaste, but he doesn’t mind. Toothpaste tastes yucky anyway.

He listens carefully before opening the door to his bathroom. He can hear his Mom continuing to rummage through their belongings and he waits until he hears the hard slam of the front door before he slinks down the hall to his room.

He learned a long time ago that sneaking around the house is the best way to avoid being yelled at.

If he’s quiet enough, his mom forgets that he’s there.

He quickly tucks himself into bed and turns off his bedside lamp to envelope his room in darkness, another method of hiding, before he closes his eyes and wishes for sleep. He refuses to let the swelling ache in his chest crest into a wave of tears.

Crying is a weakness that his mom will not tolerate, and he is careful to avoid doing anything to draw her anger.

Thoughts of Dean fill his mind as he struggles to keep his breathing calm and quiet. The front door slams and Cas can hear the lock turn as he lays in darkened silence.

Soon, the light in the hall flicks off and Cas lets out a tense breath as the sound of Naomi rummaging around in her room filters through the thin walls.

Maybe he’ll wake up and find this was all for nothing. Maybe she’ll be drunk again and too busy sleeping to pay him any attention when he slips out the door for school.

\---

_“How long will you be gone, mother?” Castiel wrings his hands as he watches her order her servants about._

_“A few days, my love.” She steps to cradle Castiel’s cheeks in her hands as she places a warm kiss to his brow._

_“Why can’t I go?” He whines, watching her with bright blue eyes._

_Portia smiles down at him and ruffles his hair. “You need to keep up with your studies. It would never do for you to fall behind,” She says with an easy smile._

_Cas knows that she’s going to see her parents in Pompeii, and he isn’t happy about being left behind this time. His grandparents own a large grove of olives that grow along the mountain and he loves running among the trees and climbing with Dean._

_“Yes, mother,” he answers, glancing to the floor._

_At least with his mother gone, Pappa will allow Dean to play with him._

_“I wish I could have given you a brother, Castiel.” She looks at him sadly and brushes a dark curl from his cheek. “You need someone to roughhouse with.”_

_“I have Dean, Mamma,” Castiel answers with a smile that quickly falls._

_“He’s a slave, Castiel. That isn’t the same,” She says with a scowl just as Dean enters the room with his hands clasped and head bowed._

_“Master requested that I fetch Castiel for his afternoon lessons,” Dean mutters demurely and Portia huffs._

_“See, that is his place. He is not to be treated as an equal to you, Castiel. Remember that,” Portia sends Dean a sour look before turning back to her son. “Now run along, your teacher is waiting.” She pats Castiel’s shoulder to urge him away and Cas turns to Dean without another word._

_Dean turns silently and waits for Castiel to follow._

_They walk in silence until they’re out of the villa and too far away for Portia to see them. As soon as they turn the corner toward the tutor’s villa, Cas throws his arm around Dean’s shoulders with a laugh._

_Dean grins and his stance relaxes as they walk nearly wrapped around one another._

_Cas loves these moments. The few times when they can just be friends instead of master and slave. Dean is so kind, so caring. Castiel would do anything for him._

_“Mother will be gone for a few days,” Castiel says, already feeling better about his mother leaving without him. Her absence means he and Dean will be able to play._

_“Really?” Dean asks, turning his bright green eyes to meet Castiel’s blue ones. Hope colors the younger boy’s expression and Cas can’t help his answering grin._

_“Yes,” Castiel says with a firm nod. “Do you think Lucius will take us fishing tonight?” Cas asks, knowing that it wouldn’t be proper for him to ask Lucius himself if he could go with him to the docks. Fishing for the family is slave work. It is not for masters, no matter how young._

_“I can ask. I’m sure he will say yes,” Dean says with a bright grin._

_“Thank you, Dean,” Castiel says as he bumps his shoulder against Dean’s._

_“Don’t gotta thank me, Cas. It’s my job,” Dean shrugs as he continues walking._

_Cas shakes his head, hating that taking care of him is Dean’s job. Dean is just a boy, like him, and yet he’s given more responsibility than Castiel will ever have. It’s isn’t fair._

_“Ow!” Dean cries out and stumbles, clutching at his bare foot when Cas reaches out to keep him from falling._

_“Dean? Are you alright? What happened?” Cas questions, steadying his friend with a hand on his shoulder._

_Dean grimaces as he looks at the sole of his foot. Blood drips from a fresh wound and Dean’s expression crumples into a pained scowl as he pulls a sharp stone from his skin. “Just a rock, I’m fine.”_

_Cas swallows hard and stares. He doesn’t handle blood well. Not at all. Nausea swells in his stomach and Cas clenches his eyes shut to avoid the sight of the crimson liquid dripping from Dean’s foot._

_“I should go back,” Dean says with a wince as he sets his still bleeding foot down and tosses the offending rock into the Oleanders lining the street._

_Castiel nods, still fighting down his churning stomach. Lucius will clean Dean’s foot and stem the bleeding. The older slave is a skilled healer. Better than the so-called doctors. He’ll fix Dean’s foot and it will be like nothing ever happened. “Okay. See you later?”_

_“I’ll be waiting for you after your lessons,” Dean says with a smile as he lays a gentle hand on Cas’ shoulder._

_Cas loves when Dean touches him. He doesn’t dare in front of his parents; Cas’ mom would be so angry if Dean showed that level of familiarity with Castiel. They aren’t supposed to be friends._

_Castiel doesn’t care about what his parents say._

_Dean is his best friend._

_Castiel finishes walking to his tutor alone and his lessons feel like they last forever. He can hardly stay focused, worrying about Dean and looking forward to fishing with Lucius._

_He loves his mom, he really does, but everyone is so much more relaxed when she goes away. Even Pappa smiles more._

_He’s excited for the next few days without her._

_True to his word, Dean is waiting when he’s finally released for the day._

_Castiel steps out into the waning daylight with a soft sigh. Dean is leaning against the side of the garden wall, his eyes trained on Castiel._

_Cas doesn’t miss how Dean’s eyes brighten as he steps closer._

_“Master gave me a pair of your old sandals,” Dean says with a sheepish smile. He dips his chin to look down at his feet. “At least until my foot heals.”_

_Castiel grins, pleased to see that his Pappa cares at least a little bit about the boy he’s entrusted his son to. “Good,” Cas says with a nod. “Does it hurt?”_

_Dean shrugs as he pushes off the wall and tries to hide his wince when he puts weight on his injured foot. “Nope,” He says and they both know he’s lying._

_Cas slings an arm around his friend’s shoulders as they walk, and he smiles as Dean leans into his touch. Dean has always liked to touch, and Castiel is happy to hold his friend close whenever he can._

_With Portia away, Castiel and his father dine with the household slaves. The tradition is something Felix started long before Castiel was born, and he is determined for Castiel to learn the value of lowering oneself on occasion._

_Six of them sit on the floor of the main room of the villa. Normally, the slaves would take their meals in the kitchen, and the family in the anteroom, but tonight they break bread together._

_These are some of Castiel’s favorite meals._

_He’s allowed to chatter aimlessly with Dean, and Dean is allowed to speak freely with him while Felix and Lucius speak quietly of Greece, Lucius’ homeland._

_Castiel and Dean laugh as they tear at their bread, imagining they’re mighty animals devouring their prey._

_“Dean, look!” Castiel calls to his friend as he lifts his cup to fill his mouth with the weak wine given to children before spitting it back into his cup in a slow stream while he crosses eyes his eyes._

_Dean nearly falls back laughing at the picture his friend makes and they finally earn the attention of the adults._

_“Castiel,” Felix chides, failing to hide his faint twitch of a smile._

_“Sorry, Pappa,” Cas mutters, ears reddening as Felix stares._

_Eventually, Cas’ father huffs a laugh and shakes his head. “Oh, to be young,” He remarks wistfully as he pats his son’s knee. “Why don’t you boys go outside and play for a little while,” He says, easily noting how Cas and Dean are both shifting anxiously in front of their empty plates._

_“Thank you, master,” Dean speaks first, already pushing to his feet and offering Castiel his hand to help him up._

_“You are a good boy, Dean. Now, go have some fun,” Felix says with a smile as he shoos the young boys away with a wave of his hand._

_“Come on, Dean! I wanna run!” Castiel nearly bounces as they make their way into the garden._

_“I... I don’t think I can tonight. I’m sorry, Cas,” Dean says, tone low and hesitant as he shifts from foot to foot without meeting Cas’ eyes. “Hurts.”_

_Cas feels a twinge of disappointment but then he remembers how badly Dean cut his foot earlier. “That's ok Dean, we don’t have to,” Cas says gently and seats himself along the low wall that stands between the pillars lining the center of the carefully manicured garden._

_Oleanders and honeysuckle bloom, filling the night air with their sweet perfume. Cas closes his eyes and just breathes in the tantalizing aroma. “Sit with me?” Cas asks, patting the space next to him._

_Dean smiles and settles in close without a word._

_When Cas stretches out, laying on his back across the wall, Dean is quick to join him and they lay shoulder to shoulder, staring up the twinkling stars dotting the night sky. Between the gentle scent of the flowers and the faint whiff of salt rolling in from the bay, Cas is lulled to sleep with Dean at his side and there is nowhere he would rather be._

_\---_

“CASTIEL!” Naomi shouts as she pounds on his closed door.

Castiel jumps and flails, nearly falling from his bed as his mother continues to pound on the door.

His mind is still swimming with the comforting visions of his dream and he rubs his bleary eyes with a groan.

“CASTIEL YOU OPEN THIS DOOR RIGHT NOW!” Naomi continues to yell, and Cas knows better than to yell back.

He scurries to unlock his door and let his mother in. The door swings inward roughly, nearly clipping Cas in the shoulder as he hurries to back away.

Harsh light floods his room when Naomi flips on the light switch and glares at Cas with her hands on her hips. “Why were you still asleep?! I told you we were leaving bright and early,” She demands, jabbing her finger at the ground angrily.

Cas glances to his window, noting the darkness still shrouding the world outside and he narrowly resists an eyeroll. “I’m sorry, Momma,” He mutters, turning wide and sad blue eyes to meet Naomi’s gaze.

“Get in the car,” She says hotly, unaffected by Cas’ puppy dog eyes.

“Yes, Momma,” Cas mutters and ducks his head as he grabs his single garbage bag full his clothes and his bumblebee backpack brimming with books. These two bags contain everything he cares about but he still gives his room one last longing look.

He doesn’t want to leave.

“Use the bathroom before we get in the car. I’m not stopping until we need to get gas,” Naomi mutters, tone a little less angry now that Cas is up and moving.

Cas nods and detours to the bathroom, still clutching his things. He does his business and remembers to tuck his toothbrush into his backpack. He grabs what little is left of his shower gel too, just in case they end up somewhere with hot water and a shower that works.

When he finally gets to his mother’s beat-up little red Grand-Am, he finds the backseat already full, too full for him to fit, so he tosses in his bags and slides into the front seat.

He’s almost never allowed to sit in the front, but his mom can’t possibly expect him to fight for space with her luggage. Right?

Naomi slides behind the wheel with a sigh. “I know you don’t want to leave, Castiel,” She says softly, reaching a hand across the seat to rest on his small knee. Her touch is unusually gentle, but Cas still flinches.

Naomi shakes her head sadly. “We have to go. I have a job offer in Punta Gorda. We’ll do better there. I promise.”

“Yes, Momma,” Cas responds, swallowing around the lump in his throat. He doesn’t believe her. Not even a little bit.

The miles disappear quickly, and Cas finds himself staring absently out the window. He’s bored and hungry, but he knows better than to ask for anything. Naomi will stop when she’s ready.

Two states later, not long after they cross the “Welcome to Tennessee” sign at the state line, Naomi finally breaks the silence between them.

“You hungry?” She asks calmly.

Cas sucks in a breath. “Yes, Momma.” He still doesn’t look at her, afraid she might see the lingering tears in his eyes.

“How about we stop at McDonald's? I know that’s your favorite,” She offers with a smile.

McDonald's is not his favorite, but he isn’t going to correct her. He pastes on as happy a smile as he can muster. “Can I play in the playground?” He asks brightly, ignoring the fact that what he really wants is to go home.

“Of course, sweetie.” Naomi smiles and for a moment, just a moment, she looks like she really cares about him.

She gives Cas a half an hour after they eat and he takes full advantage. He races through the plastic tunnels and throws himself into the ball pit with a genuine laugh. His smile only dims when a little girl tries to talk to him.

He’s never been good with other kids. They make him nervous and their words are cruel.

The little girl looks at him strangely when he can only manage to stare at her with wide eyes as they both stand chest deep in the pit of brightly colored plastic balls.

“Did you know that crazy people hide drugs in the ball pits?” Castiel finally asks and instantly knows that was the wrong thing to say.

“Mommy!” The little girl shrieks and Cas hangs his head.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” He pleads but the girl is already running away from him.

Castiel lets out a sigh and shakes his head before climbing out and finding his mother.

“You ready?” She asks as he flops onto the bench to slide into his shoes.

He nods, “Yes, please,” He mutters under his breath.

“Cassie, what’s wrong?” Naomi asks as she brushes a stray curl from his brow.

“Other kids don’t like me,” He mumbles without looking up.

Naomi huffs a laugh that doesn’t sound natural on her. Cas both loves and hates when she gets like this. When she acts like a normal mom. He knows it won’t last, and that’s what really hurts. “That why that little brat when crying to her mommy?” Naomi’s words are harsh but her tone is more amused than annoyed.

Cas nods. “I told her about what they said on the news. About the drugs that bad people hide in ball pits,” He says softly.

Naomi laughs. She actually laughs, and Cas can’t help the smile that creeps across his face.

“Silly boy,” Naomi says and ruffles his hair as she pushes to her feet. “Come on, I want to get to Atlanta before dark.”

They load back in the car and the mood feels lighter as Cas watches the world go by outside the window.

The mountains they drive through are pretty, Cas decides. They stand greener and more numerous than the mountains in his dream. Less like triangles sticking up from the earth and more like ridges stretching across the sky in layers.

His ears pop as they ascend, and then his breath is taken away when they coast down the mountain and come around a wide bend to find themselves surrounded by water. The way the sun glints on the calm surface of the lake brings a smile to Castiel’s face.

“Pretty, isn’t it?” Naomi asks, breaking the silence of the last hour. “I’ve always wanted to live high on a mountain, away from everything,” She muses and Cas isn’t certain she’s still talking to him or simply thinking out loud.

“Very,” Cas agrees, not taking his eyes off the water even as they come around another bend in the road that leads them away from the large lake.

Naomi continues to drive without a word and soon they’re leaving the mountains behind and the balmy heat of the south begins to creep into the little car.

Castiel drifts in a haze as the sun begins to set. The world flashes by outside his window and Naomi drives while Cas silently hopes that maybe this will be a fresh start for them.

Maybe his mom is right. Maybe Florida will be good. Maybe she’ll drink less and start acting more like she has since lunch.

Maybe she’ll start being his mom.


	3. Ten

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Castiel struggles to keep his head above water, with a mother like Naomi, he's forced to take on more responsibility than any ten-year-old should. His dreams are nearly as frustrating, but for entirely different reasons.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm posting this a little early since it's ready and I'm bored. I hope you enjoy.

“You didn’t tell me you had a kid,” A strange man grumbles when Cas pushes through the door of the small apartment. “Didn’t sign up for no kids,” He continues as he scowls in Castiel’s general direction.

Cas freezes as he crosses the threshold, taking in the scene before him. His mother sits half-naked on the couch, her bra strap hanging off her shoulder looser than the cigarette dangling from her lips. Bottles litter the table, both liquor and the orange plastic that can only belong to prescriptions.

Cas can’t decide which is worse.

“Mom?” Cas questions as he clutches his backpack strap tighter.

“Don’you’worry’bout him,” Naomi slurs, waving a hand aimlessly.

Neither Cas nor the stranger sitting next to his mother know who she’s talking to.

Cas ducks his chin without another word and makes a beeline for his bedroom. The walls may be thin, but at least the door has a lock.

He learned a long time ago to always lock his door.

“You didn’t tell me you had a kid!” The strange man shouts as if yelling will help Naomi understand his displeasure.

Cas swallows hard and pushes his dresser in front of the door. Just in case.

“I didn’t think I had too!” Naomi shrieks and Cas hears something break against a wall.

Cas cringes and eyes his window, considering the consequences of jumping from the second floor.

“You know what?! I don’t have to deal with this! I’m done, Bitch!” The man yells back, and Cas can hear a door slam.

Not two minutes later, Naomi comes pounding on his door. The handle rattles and Cas thanks his lucky stars for the lock. “I’sickayou ruinin m’life!” Naomi screams, her words barely coherent.

Cas lets out a heavy sigh and his eyes slide closed as he shakes his head.

Her words don’t even surprise him anymore and he doesn’t have the tears to give.

He lets himself fall onto his bed, resigned to staying in his room until she eventually leaves or passes out. His stomach rumbles but he ignores it for now in favor of staring up at his ceiling.

“Get out here you little shit!” His mom continues to pound on the door and scream, but Cas knows better than to listen.

He found a book in the library today. Secrets of Vesuvius by some archeologist he’s never heard of. That he knows many, but still. The picture on the cover caught his attention and he grabbed it on his way to the checkout without so much as cracking the cover.

The librarian had seemed surprised when he handed her the slim book. Normally the bigger the better is his motto, but he had shrugged with a shy smile as she stamped the book and handed it over.

“Castiel!” Naomi screams, the end of his name slurring drunkenly on her tongue.

Cas rolls over with a groan and digs through his backpack for the new book.

Something full of pictures sounds nice.

Anything to help distract him.

He flips through the pages absently, eyes skimming the introduction about the differences in destruction between Pompeii and Herculaneum. Something about Pompeii seems familiar, but he brushes the thought aside and continues.

Halfway through the book, his eyes widen and he realizes this book full of pictures is not nice at all.

There, in a two-page color printout, is his mother.

Not Naomi.

No, he wouldn’t be so lucky.

He immediately feels guilty for the errant thought, but his heart constricts even worse as he takes in those golden rings adorning a skeletal hand. A donut-shaped red stone and a rectangular cut of emerald. He’s seen those rings nearly every night and awoken wishing she where here instead of in his dreams.

Suddenly, this book seems a lot more important.

The pounding outside his door stops, but Castiel reads on, transfixed by the words covering the pages between photos.

The Ring Lady is what the book calls her.

Apparently, Herculaneum is the modern name for the small city he knows all too well from his dreams. Ercolano.

The mountain that has loomed over him since childhood, the mountain that has always felt like a protective shield against the wide and unknown world, destroyed everything in an explosion of ash and fire.

He doesn’t stop to consider that this means his dreams are most certainly real.

For him, they always have been.

“Dean,” He whispers as his fingers stroke the page. If his mom is here, what happened to Dean? What happened to him?

From the other side of his door, he hears another loud bang of a door slamming and he tilts his head to listen closer.

Nothing.

His mother must have left.

He rolls out of bed and tosses the book aside to stew over later. For now, he needs to find something for dinner since he knows his mother won’t make anything.

He pushes the dresser back as quietly as possible, just in case, and carefully unlocks his door to peer out in the hall.

Nothing.

He lets out a deep sigh and slips from his room and pads to the kitchen in search of something to eat. Each cupboard reveals less and less every time he opens them, and he doesn’t even bother looking in the fridge. There hasn’t been anything in there for a week.

A box of pasta is the best he finds. No sauce, of course. He finished that two days ago.

He gives the crusty pot in the sink a quick rinse and fills it with water. His “life skills” teacher taught them how to boil pasta earlier this year and he’s glad for it.

His classmates whined and complained about having to learn basic cooking skills, but Castiel approached the class with wide and eager eyes.

There is only so much that can be done with a microwave. He learned that the hard way.

Turns out, cans of soup don’t heat well.

In fact, very bad things happen when you put metal in the microwave.

He thought he was going to have to call 911, but thankfully the sparks stopped as soon as he opened the door.

He’s been a little wary of the microwave since then.

But boiling pasta had been a revelation.

Once the water comes to a rolling boil as Mrs. Hovarter showed him, he dumps the noodles in, stirs and waits.

Ten minutes.

He watches the pot carefully, remembering to never leave anything on the stove unattended, and stirs every couple of minutes.

When the timer dings, he carefully lifts the heavy pot and pours the contents into the strainer still in the sink from last time.

The steaming pot goes back on the stovetop, now turned to off, so it can cool, and his pasta gets dumped into a mixing bowl along with a fork.

He takes his dinner back to his room and relocks his door. If his mom comes home still drunk, or with somebody, he needs that door to be locked.

He finishes reading the Secrets of Vesuvius while he eats the bland and now sticky bowl of noodles, wishing he had sauce to make it better but still proud of himself that they aren’t crunchy like the first time he made pasta or soggy like the last time.

He did better.

And he can’t help but feel a little bit proud of himself for that.

By the time he’s finished with his food and the book, Naomi still isn’t home so Cas decides to risk a quick shower.

He’s also learned that other kids make fun of him less if he showers every day and washes his hair. He takes some of his clothes in with him, giving them much the same treatment as he does himself, and then scurries back to his room wrapped in a towel.

His underwear and shirt get hung up to dry and the jeans he wore today get tossed in the corner.

By the time he’s crawling into bed, Naomi hasn’t come home, and Cas can’t help but worry.

The later she’s out, the worse the next day usually is.

He sets the alarm on the little clock he dug out of the dumpster a few months ago. The face is cracked, but the numbers still work. It’s perfectly good. He can’t be late to school and he can’t rely on his mom to get him there.

School is miserable, but its better than home.

His thoughts turn to Dean as he waits for sleep to come. Last night, he and Dean went fishing with Lucius and Cas had nearly dropped his line into the water when a big fish broke the surface and startled him.

Dean had nearly fallen into the water laughing at him and it didn’t take long for Cas to start laughing too. Lucius had watched them both a fond smile, quietly bringing in three fish for every one Cas and Dean had caught combined.

He hadn’t seemed to mind.

Maybe Cas should try to find a fishing pole?

Lucius taught him to fish in his dreams. Maybe he can do the same here.

He yawns widely, turning his head into the pillow and smiles at the thought. He could learn how to cook a fish, at least he thinks he can.

Very little time passes before Cas goes gladly into the realm of his dreams with his apartment blessedly silent outside his door.

\---

_“Cas!” Dean calls as soon as his eyes blink open._

_Cas turns his head with a groan. The faintest light of dawn filters in through his window and Dean stands at his bedside wearing the sternest expression a nine-year-old can adopt. His hands rest on his hips and his green eyes are fierce as Cas frowns._

_“You have to get up, Cas. Mistress will be angry if you’re late,” Dean says, arching a brow like he only dares to do when they’re alone._

_Cas cracks a smile. They both know that Cas’ mom won’t be angry at Cas. She’ll be angry with Dean like she always is. Cas would never do anything to get his friend in trouble. “Is there breakfast?” Cas asks, already planning to share whatever Dean might have brought him._

_Cas has gotten in the habit of eating his first meal in his room as Dean prepares him for the day. That way no one can see when Dean picks at the fresh fruit and fresh bread._

_Cas knows his mother doesn’t give Dean enough food and he hates how hungry his friend always seems to be. It isn’t fair._

_And Castiel’s Pappa doesn’t seem to notice half the time, he’s so busy with the local Senate that his household often goes ignored._

_“Grapes, olives, cheese and bread today,” Dean says with a smile as he watches Cas climb out of his bed._

_The tray of food sits on the small table underneath his window and Cas’ eyes brighten when he spies a small pile of sweet plums. His favorite._

_Dean’s soft smile lets Cas know that he had something to do with the treat._

_“Dean?” Cas says as an offering as he holds out one of the plums._

_Dean smiles and ducks his chin as he reaches for the fruit and they grin at each other when they each shove a whole piece into their mouths._

_Dean crosses his eyes as he chews, cheeks stuffed like a chipmunk and Cas is forced to press his hand over his own mouth to keep himself from spewing his food all over the floor as he laughs._

_Their giggles surely spill through the door and out of the room, but no one looks in to see what the two boys are up to. As usual, when Portia isn’t waiting impatiently, no bothers to police their behavior. No one else sees the harm in two boys having a bit of fun._

_Cas changes from his night clothes into violet edged child’s toga that Dean helps him wrap before slipping his bulla over his neck. Cas only dresses like this for his lessons, his mother determined to flaunt their wealth._

_Cas would rather wear a tunic like Dean._

_Castiel rolls his eyes as Dean fusses with his clothes, trying to straighten the folds as Cas munches on his breakfast._

_“Castiel?” Portia’s voice calls from afar and Cas and Dean’s eyes widen with alarm._

_“I gotta go,” Cas says in a hurry as he steps away from Dean. “Just stay here till we’re gone, okay?” Cas turns to whisper before he opens the door._

_Dean nods his agreement and Cas gives him a soft smile before he turns to go._

_Castiel finds his mother in the garden, tapping her foot lightly as she reclines on the low and padded bench facing the entrance._

_“Are you ready, sweetheart?” She croons as she rises. Her long toga seems to float around her as she steps toward him to cradle his cheeks in her palms._

_“Yes, mother,” Castiel answers, eyes sliding closed as she presses a light kiss to his brow. “You’re not having Dean take me?” He asks head cocked slightly._

_Normally walking him to school and back again is part of Dean’s duties. Cas’ intuition tingles at the change in routine. Nothing good can come of Mother stepping in where Dean should be._

_“I trust that lazy boy woke you early enough for you to enjoy your breakfast?” She ignores his question by asking one of her own, tone still light but carrying an undercurrent of venom._

_Cas’s hands ball into fists at his sides. “Dean is not lazy, Mamma,” he argues but Portia silences him with a tut._

_“All slaves are lazy, Castiel. Remember that,” She says, and Cas_ knows _how wrong she is._

_The slaves in their household work harder than any of them. Expect maybe Father, but his work is different. His work is mostly listening to people talk. Not cooking, cleaning, fishing, and taking care of them._

_“Come now, son, I don’t want you to be late to your lessons,” Portia ignores Castiel’s narrowed eyes and gently clasps his shoulder to guide him along. “I will be speaking with your Magister; he needs to understand just how bright you are. You are better than the other students. Remember that, Castiel. No one there is your equal.”_

_Castiel sighs, that might explain the change in his carefully planned routine. He disagrees with his mother’s opinions in entirety, but he knows better than to voice his thoughts._

_He isn’t better than anyone else. Neither is she. But if Father couldn’t convince her of that, what hope does he have?_

_She speaks with his magister before leaving him at the front of the school with the promise that “the boy” would be waiting for him when he’s finished for the morning._

_Cas swallows hard and nods as his gaze flits to the irritated looking man in charge of his education. School is already difficult, and Cas fears that his mother just made things worse for him._

_He quietly takes his place near the middle of the small gaggle of boys here to learn and does his best to blend in._

_With his white toga amongst their simple tunics, that is no easy task._

_By the time they’re released, Castiel’s backside aches from the number of strikes he received for not having enough of the Greek alphabet memorized. He doesn’t understand how any of them are supposed to be able to write the letters when the teacher has never shown them, but it seems that is what is expected._

_His teacher seemed especially determined to convince Castiel of his place today. Not that he needs convincing, but his body still stings from the thin stick the magister uses for discipline._

_He finds Dean in his usual spot, leaning against the low wall in the shade and half hidden behind the large bushes._

_With Dean’s age, he is a frequent topic amongst the older slaves who wait for their charges. They cannot understand how one so young can be capable of defending his master from those who would do him harm._

_They would have a point if Lucius hadn’t taught Dean the art of Greek combat. He may be young, but he is fierce when pressed and constantly underestimated. Castiel has no doubt Dean would defend him even it cost him his life._

_And Castiel would do the same for Dean._

_Dean pushes off the wall but keeps his chin low as Cas bounces to his side._

_“Dean?” Cas questions, pain in his back forgotten at the reticence in his friend’s posture. “Are you alright?”_

_Dean nods but still doesn’t lift his chin. “Gotta get you home, Cas,” He mumbles and Cas’ brows knit in confusion._

_“Dean, what’s wrong?” Cas places a hand on Dean’s shoulder and the other boy flinches away. “Dean,” Cas states firmly. “Look at me.”_

_Cas feels bad for giving Dean an order, but he’s really starting to worry him._

_“Cas,” Dean draws out his name, pleading, but Cas loses patience and hooks a finger gently under Dean’s chin to force him to meet Castiel’s gaze._

_Cas clenches his teeth the instant Dean’s reddened cheek and darkening eye come into view. “Who did this,” He demands, furious that someone would lay a hand on Dean._

_Dean huffs and shakes his head out of Cas’ hold. “Who do you think, master?” Dean sneers the last word, but Cas knows Dean’s anger isn’t directed at him._

_Cas sucks in a harsh breath, fury rising in him but not knowing how he can protect Dean from his mother. He’s just a child, he holds no power. “I’m sorry,” Cas mutters, tears gathering in his eyes._

_“S’okay, Cas. Just part of being a slave,” Dean shrugs, tone making light of the situation._

_Dean’s words cut deep into Cas’ heart and a tear breaks loose from his eye and trails slowly down his cheek. “I hate this. I hate that she hurts you.”_

_Dean pinches a sad smile. “I know, Cas. I know.”_

\---

Castiel wakes to a loud bang, his words to Dean dying on his tongue as he’s ripped from his dream.

He sits up in bed with his eyes trained on his door in the grey light of early dawn, nearly ready to pray to Jupiter for safety.

“Cas…siel, you’pn thisss door righ’now,” Naomi half yells, have mumbles as she continues to bang.

She isn’t getting through, not in the state she’s in and Castiel relaxes marginally. A quick glance at his bedside clock reveals the hour to be just past four in the morning. He has to get up for school in only two hours.

“Go to sleep, Mom,” Cas calls through the door, hoping his voice calms her instead of making her angrier.

He never can tell what the right move is with her.

He eyes his window again with the thought of risking the drop. He’s only on the second floor of their run-down building. If he lets himself dangle from the ledge before he drops, it won’t be much different from jumping off the swings at school.

This, this right here is why he doesn’t have any friends other than Dean.

None of the kids at school understand this. None of them are practically raising themselves while dodging parents who don’t want them.

He should run away. Naomi wouldn’t miss him.

She would probably be glad.

“You be…late fur school,” Naomi slurs through the door, still hammering away weakly.

“School is in three hours, mom,” Cas answers, drawing his knees to his chest as he fights back tears.

What did he do to deserve this?

Would she have been like this if Jimmy hadn’t…if Cas had been the one with the heart problem?

He barely remembers his twin. Only that he was sick all the time.

Last year, his mom told him that they knew Jimmy was going to die as soon as they were born but he held on for just over three years. She had wept and cried that it was all her fault. That she killed her son and they were going to take Cas away from her.

She told him that she loved him and couldn’t bear the idea of losing him.

Then the very next week she left a bruise on his arm that took three weeks to heal.

The pounding outside his door falls quiet and Cas lets out a deep breath. He hates that he hopes she’s gone.

Cas carefully slides out of bed and slips into the clothes he had washes two days before, now hanging stiff and dry in his closet. The fabric is rough on his skin, but he knows from experience that it will soften as soon he steps into the constant humidity outside.

He gathers his books and shoves his bare feet into his shoes quickly before opening his door. He freezes when the click of his lock sounds as loud as a gunshot in the quiet of the apartment and he peeks out the door before opening it fully.

The door to his mom’s room hangs open, but he can see her still shoed foot hanging off the bed. She’s asleep, or at least not in any state to come after him.

Cas slinks down the hall silently and slips out the front door and into the already hot morning.

He doesn’t stop to breathe until the door is shut behind him and he’s a good distance from the building.

This isn’t the first time he’s left this early for school. He would rather wander aimlessly than risk facing his mom after a long night out.

His feet carry him toward the long pier only a few blocks from the apartment. He likes to sit on the bench near the end and stare off into Charlotte Harbor to watch the sunrise. The brilliant pinks and yellows reflecting off the placid water remind him of his dreams.

If he closes his eyes, he can almost imagine that Dean is here, sitting next to him.

The walk to the water only takes a few minutes. The benefits of Florida. You’re never far from water. Already, a few boats are preparing to launch from the docks and Cas spends a few minutes watching their captains unmoor like well-seasoned professionals. The gulls squawk overhead, circling for handouts and even a few pelicans sit atop the posts in the water left over from a pier long since rotted away.

Cas takes a deep breath, inhaling the salty and humid air. This place calms him. Reminds him of the only place that has ever felt like home.

His eyes catch sight of a long pole sticking out the dumpster next the parking lot, but he decides that retrieving it isn’t worth his time. Someone likely broke their rod and tossed it instead of bringing it home. It happens often enough for Cas to have given up hope that someone will throw away something he could use.

He finds his usual bench and draws his knees to his chest to watch the sun. He’ll stay for a little while, then he’ll make the trek to school. If he gets there early enough, he might be able to offer to wash tables for lunch ladies in exchange for breakfast.


	4. Twelve

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cas meets a new friend who teaches him some valuable skills. In his dreams, Castiel gains some insight as to how others see his relationship with Dean.

“Where’s your daddy, boy?” A gruff voice calling from down the pier makes Castiel flinch in surprise. He’s been coming here for almost three years and no one has ever talked to him before. But now, he finally found a fishing pole and he’s fighting with some tangled line that he found.

Apparently, that is enough to warrant attention.

He’s hungry. So hungry. Naomi has been gone for almost two weeks. He doesn’t know where and part of him doesn’t care.

He can take care of himself.

He just needs something to eat. All the food has been gone at home for three days and the lunch he can usually work for at school isn’t enough.

“I’m talking to you, boy.” The man’s voice draws closer and Cas swallows hard as he lifts his gaze to see an old black man walking toward him with a scowl on his face. “Where’s your daddy at?”

Cas sucks in a breath and stares. He’s seen this man nearly every time he’s been here. He’s got chocolate brown skin with a scraggly white beard and missing his left hand. The man’s deep brown eyes stare down at Cas and the pole in his hands and Cas’ usual excuse dies on his tongue. “I…I don’t have one,” He mutters the truth before glancing down in shame.

“What about your momma then? I seen you ‘round here a lot. This place ain’t good fur a lil’kid alone,” The man changes his line of questioning and the hard look in his eyes softens.

“She…uh, she’s busy,” Cas says sheepishly, subconsciously reaching to cover the faded yellow bruise Naomi left on his arm just before she took off.

“I see,” The man folds his arms over his chest and nods. “Well, come over ‘ere then. Lemme show ya how it’s done before you hook your own eye or some dumb shit,” The man waves his good hand, beckoning Cas to follow.

Cas stares after him for a moment before his feet start moving. He swallows hard and his heart races as he comes to a stop next to where the man has his gear set up.

“What’s your name, boy?” The man asks as he takes the pole from Cas’ hand and proceeds to spool new line from his tackle box onto the reel.

“Cas…Castiel,” Cas answers, still unsure about this situation.

“Cas then. I’m Rufus,” The man introduces. “You don’ talk much, do ya?”

Cas shakes his head as he continues to stare.

“That’s fine by me,” Rufus responds to Castiel’s head shake and continues feeding the new line onto the old reel.

A few minutes later, Rufus has the new line on, and fresh tackle attached to the end. “You know how to bait a hook?” Rufus questions with an arched brow.

“No, sir,” Cas answers, eyeing the bucket of shrimp at Rufus’ feet. The only experience he has fishing is in his dreams. And Lucius uses minnows.

“Alright. I’ll show you one. But then you gotta bait your own. Understand?” Rufus crouches down to meet Cas at eye level.

“Yes sir,” Cas answers easily.

“An stop the ‘sir’ bullshit. I ain’t in the army no more,” Rufus grumbles as he snatches a thrashing shrimp from the bucket and easily slides the hook through the creature’s body.

Cas watches wide-eyed, amazed that someone missing an entire hand can manage all of this so easily. Cas isn’t sure he’ll be able to handle one of those shrimps and his hook with two hands.

“Gotta watch where the shrimp’s head and tails at so ya don’t get stabbed. Lookit here, see this barb?” Rufus holds the now hooked shrimp steady and points to the long and jagged barb extending forward along the shrimp’s head before pointing to the tail, “an this one too,”

Cas’ jaw drops open and he stares at the wicked looking weapons a creature as simple as a shrimp comes armed with.

“Now, you know how to cast?” Rufus questions and Cas shakes his head. “Damn kids don’t know a damn thing nowadays,” the older man grumbles in response, but his words lack heat and Cas finds himself smiling at the gentle abuse. There is a fondness in the other man’s gruff tone that Cas notices immediately.

He knows what being yelled at feels like. This isn’t it.

“Alright, take this.” Rufus shoves the pole into Castiel’s hands and then wraps his hand around Castiel’s right. “You’re gonna flip this little bar here, see? An hold the line up with your pinky like this,” Rufus explains as he shifts to stand behind Cas, folding himself around the boy to guide his motions. “Now, draw your arm back, hold on tight. Now move your pinky out of the way as you cast forward.”

Rufus guides Cas through the motions and laughs when the shrimp lands on the wood of the pier behind them with a dull smack. “Try again, on your own now,”

Cas nods and takes a deep breath as he reels in the extra line to walk himself through the steps Rufus just showed him.

Rufus repeats his instructions as Castiel goes through each step, even going so far as to tell him exactly when to move his little finger.

This time, the shrimp flies overhead and into the water at least ten feet from the pier.

Cas turns to Rufus with a wide grin. “I did it!” He says excitedly.

Rufus huffs and shakes his head. “Barely,” He grumbles, but the smile growing over his features gives him away. He clasps Cas on the shoulder and picks up his own pole.

They fish side by side in silence. Cas already knows to leave his line where it’s at. He learned that much from Lucius.

At least twenty minutes pass without so much as nibble but Cas is okay with that. He knows this can take a long time. His stomach rumbles and he hopes he can catch something. He’s watched Lucius cook fish for years now. He thinks he can manage if he can catch one.

Finally, his line twitches and Cas shifts excitedly, waiting for a harder hit. Rufus notices and turns his attention to Cas.

“Easy,” Rufus says, tone quiet with anticipation. “As soon as you feel a hard tug, tug back, ya hear?”

Cas nods, eyes focused like lasers on his steadily twitching line. He lifts the tip of his pole slightly, just enough to wiggle the shrimp at the end of his line and entice whatever fish is down there nibbling.

Finally, the line jerks and Cas tugs just like Lucius taught him. He feels the hook set and lets out an excited whoop. “I got it!” He grins as he starts to reel.

This reel is different than in his dreams and he struggles with the speed, but Rufus talks him through each phase.

“Gonna have to walk it down,” Rufus nods his approval when a large fish breaks the surface. “Line ain’t strong enough to deadlift that’un,”

He helps Cas walk the fish down to the shore and heaves the fish from the water’s edge as Cas continues to reel in the extra line.

“This is a nice’un kid,” Rufus admires as he holds the toothy red fish aloft by the gills. “A snapper. Good eatin.”

“It’s so big,” Cas says with awe lacing his tone and Rufus shrugs.

“You caught it, you clean it,” Rufus says as he hands the fish over to a grinning Castiel. “Unless your one of those catch and release pansies,” Rufus accuses with narrowed eyes.

Cas shakes his head. “No, I…uh, do you want some?” Cas offers as his small fingers are scratched by the gills of now thrashing snapper. The fish is almost as long as Castiel’s arm and he’s starting to struggle to hold it up as he follows Rufus back down the pier toward the fish cleaning station.

“Naw, you caught it, you keep it,” Rufus says with a wave as he rakes his gaze over Cas’ too skinny body. “Looks like you could use some more meat on your bones anyway.”

Cas ducks his chin for a moment before he uses both hands to haul the fish onto the cleaning station. The entire area reeks of rotten fish and is sticky with blood and scales. Frankly, it’s disgusting and Castiel’s stomach twists at the inescapable stench.

Rufus brings his knife and scaler over and lays them down, looking to Cas expectantly.

Cas eyes the knife with trepidation. “I, uh, I don’t know how,” Cas stammers as he lays a hand over the fish’s broad side. The ruler glued to the table shows the fish measure twenty-two inches from nose to tail. Lucius would be proud of him for this catch.

Rufus barks a laugh and shakes his head as he picks up the knife. “Figured as much,” He grumbles but his smile doesn’t dim.

He makes short work of showing Cas how to cut the head and fins and off and leaves Cas to deal with the scales as he watches with a fond look in his eye.

“Thank you, Rufus,” Cas says with a hopeful smile as the older man helps him load the pieces of the fish into a bucket he’s offered to lend.

Rufus frowns and shakes his head. “Ain’t no thing. You coming back soon?” He says with an arched brow as he fixes Cas with a stern look.

“Yes sir. I’ll bring your bucket back tomorrow,” Cas answers quickly.

Rufus rolls his head on his shoulders, “Boy, what’d I tell you ‘bout callin me ‘sir’?”

Cas blushes and looks down as his bucket of haphazardly cut fish, but Rufus breaks his shame with a laugh.

“Now you go home and give that to your momma to cook, you hear?” Rufus says as he claps Cas on the shoulder and gives the boy a gentle shove.

Cas falters at Rufus’ words and although he recovers quickly, the older man notices.

“When's the last time you had a proper dinner, anyway?” Rufus prods, hand resting heavier now where it lays on Cas’ shoulder. “I been seein you ‘round here for a couple years now, but always by yurself.” Rufus stares as he speaks and Cas shifts under the scrutiny. “Tell me the truth boy, you got a home to go to?”

Cas nods. “Yeah, I just...my mom's not around much,” Cas stammers, heart beginning to race.

“So, what your sayin is your momma don’t take care of you like she should?” Rufus arches a brow, still not releasing his hold on Cas’ shoulder.

Cas dips his chin and nods. “She drinks a lot,” Cas mutters, unsure of why he’s telling this to a stranger.

Rufus nods sagely. “I see,” He says, still fixing Cas with a stern look. “Yous a good kid, don’t go screwin that up,” He finally says as he drops his hand to his side. “You need anythin, come see me, ya hear? I ain’t got much, but I can’t let no dumb ass woman ruin a son she don’t deserve.”

Cas feels tears well in his eyes as Rufus turns away to go back to his spot on the pier. Cas feels his throat constrict as he replays the man’s words in his mind. How dare he talk like that about Cas’ mom? Cas wants to be angry, and a tiny flicker of rage burns in him. But the anger isn’t directed at Rufus.

No.

Rufus is right.

And Cas hates that he is.

Castiel turns to walk home, hurrying a little so his fish doesn’t spoil.

He had looked at cookbooks at the library to figure out what to do with a fish if he were to catch one, but he hadn’t thought he actually would.

He thinks he has oil and some basic seasonings. As he walks, he thinks through the easiest instructions he remembers reading.

He’s been cooking for himself for two years now. He can do this.

Later, when his pan is smoking and the first piece of fish is burnt to an unrecognizable blacked crisp, he realizes he’s really bad at this.

He chokes on the smoke and opens all the windows, not caring if his neighbors complain. The remains of the fish get dumped on a plate and the smoldering pan goes into the sink before Cas slides down the wall with a heavy sob.

Cas loses track of how long he stays there. The smoke clears and the humid outside air has made everything feel heavy, and still Cas sits on the floor with tears and snot stuck to his face.

Hopelessness swells in his chest. He shouldn’t have to do this. Why can’t Naomi just be a _mom?_ New tears begin to fall as he pushes to his feet to find a towel to wipe his face.

Pity will get him nowhere.

Once he calms a little more, he closes the windows and summons the courage to face the burnt remains of his dinner.

The first attempt at cooking fish is barely edible but Cas forces himself to eat as much as is tolerable before trying again. The protein sits heavy in his stomach, but he still wants more.

He scrubs the burnt fish skin from the pan, takes a deep breath, and tries again.

This time, the fish is only a little overcooked.

He smiles.

He can do this.

\---

_Cas waits anxiously, shifting from foot to foot as he watches for Dean to come down the walkway to their villa. He’s due back today from the orange groves and Saturnalia starts tomorrow. Castiel has a wonderful present planned for his friend and he can barely wait to give it to him._

_“When will he come, Lucius?” Cas asks, his voice nearly a whine as he looks to the older man. In his young mind, the Greek slave who runs their household knows everything a person could possibly know._

_“Soon, young master,” Lucius says in his gentle way as he looks down at Castiel._

_“Castiel!” Portia calls from inside the villa and Castiel cringes._

_Lucius chuckles when Castiel groans. “Go now, dear boy. You must not keep your mother waiting,” Lucius says as he gives Cas a nudge toward the door._

_“She just wants to keep me away from Dean,” Cas pouts as he crosses his arms over his chest._

_Lucius hums in thought before nodding. “I do believe you are correct.”_

_“But why? Cas questions, trying not to sound petulant._

_Lucius sighs and shakes his head sadly. “It is not my place to say, but you can keep a secret, right?” Lucius gives Cas a devious little grin that has Castiel nodding vigorously. “I believe she resents your friendship with Dean because she laments not being able to give you a brother.”_

_“I don’t understand?” Cas cocks his head curiously and peers at the older man._

_“She wishes only the best for you, child. Your friendship with your slave, to her, is a mockery of what you should have with a brother. An insult to her ability to bear children.”_

_“But Dean isn’t like a brother! He’s my best friend,” Cas points out._

_“Are not childhood best friends and brothers one and the same?” Lucius counters and Cas pouts. “Do not be so hard on your mother, Castiel. She means well for you._

_“Castiel!” Portia calls again, louder this time and Castiel groans._

_“Go,” Lucius says, giving Cas a nudge. “I will see to Dean when he arrives.”_

_Cas nods with a frown. “Thank you, Lucius,” Cas mutters and dips his chin respectfully._

_Lucius smiles and returns Castiel’s gesture. “It is my duty.”_

_Cas sucks in a deep breath as he steps inside the villa. His duty. Castiel hates that Lucius and Dean are slaves. That slaves exist at all. The entire idea is wrong! He resolves, right then, that when he grows up and takes over his place as head of the family, there will be no more slaves in his house. Lucius, Dean, and the others will all see freedom under his hand._

_No matter what his mother says._

_“Castiel, what took you so long?” Portia says impatiently as strides toward him._

_“I’m sorry, mother, I was in the garden, I didn’t hear you right away,” Cas lies and ducks his chin to show his repentance._

_Portia huffs but leads him into her embrace anyway. “I have a task for you, Castiel. I need you to go to the market and purchase everything on this list. Alia will escort you,” She says before turning and snapping her fingers at one of her personal slaves._

_Alia is a young woman, barely past her teen years but her body is already bent from her years of labor. She doesn’t look up as she steps forward._

_“But Momma, can’t I just wait for Dean?” Castiel asks, trying not to complain. Alia is polite, but she isn’t Dean._

_“Time is highly important, Castiel,” Portia says hotly. “Are you saying Alia is not a sufficient escort?”_

_Castiel and Alia both flinch, knowing the hidden threat in his mother’s words. If he refuses Alia’s company, his mother will have the girl punished for no other reason than she can._

_“Alia will be wonderful, mother,” Castiel says in a rush as he reaches for the list in his mother’s hand._

_“Very good. Here is enough coin to make the purchases, do not stray from your task.” Portia lifts her chin high to stare down her nose at her son._

_“Yes, mother,” Castiel says meekly. “Come, Alia,” He firms his voice when speaking to the slave, but he refuses to take on the hard edge that his mother berates them all with._

_Alia follows as Cas heads back outside._

_“Lucius, Mother is sending me to the market with Alia. Will you please greet Dean for me?” Castiel stops in front of the man and meets his eyes as he speaks._

_“Of course,” Lucius says with a smile as he dips his chin._

_“Thank you,” Cas says with a soft smile before leading the way to the market._

_The market only sets up every nine to ten days, but with Saturnalia looming, many vendors are looking for last-minute patrons such as Castiel._

_At twelve, he’s old enough to act under his father’s word. And his mother’s directions are as good as his father’s in his household. The list in his hand isn’t long, and he has no doubt created simply to prevent him from being home when Dean arrives._

_This fall, Dean has spent much of his time helping with the orange harvest. Next season, he will be helping with the lemons as well._

_Castiel is convinced that his mother is punishing him for his friendliness toward the slaves in their home by sending Dean away._

_“Alia, do you know where that farmer with the honey has set up this time?” Castiel questions absently, knowing an attempt at conversation would be pointless with the young woman. She doesn’t speak unless directly questioned._

_“Yes, master,” Alia replies so softy that Cas would have missed her words if he weren’t listening closely. “He is near the fishing row.”_

_“Thank you, Alia,” Castiel mutters as he turns them in that direction._

_They go about their task efficiently, Alia occasionally guiding Castiel but mostly remaining mute._

_It isn’t until Castiel is in search of the last item on his list that he hears the voice belonging to his best friend._

_“Cas!” Dean calls from across the courtyard and Cas turns to him with a bright grin._

_“Dean!” Cas answers and begins making his way through the crowd of people with Alia trailing close behind._

_“Cas!” Dean grins as Cas nearly tackles him in a hug._

_Dean quickly hugs back and the two boys rock together with delighted laughter._

_“You’re back,” Cas still grins when he steps back._

_“Lucius sent me on an errand,” Dean says with a grin._

_“Oh?” Castiel questions with a tilt of his head._

_“To find you and tell you that supper will be served in an hour.” Dean delivers his message with a grin, both boys knowing that Lucius merely found an excuse to send Dean to Castiel since Cas couldn’t be home to wait._

_A quick glance to Alia shows a quiet smile playing her lips._

_For as ill-favored as the friendship between the two boys is with Castiel’s mother, they are quite popular with the other slaves around their small city._

_Cas takes some of the burden that Alia carries, since she is expected to carry all of Castiel’s purchases and hands some to Dean while keeping a portion for himself._

_“Master, please,” Alia tries to protest but Dean waves her off and the girl falls silent._

_They’ll take the bundles from Castiel right before they arrive home so his mother doesn’t see him doing slave’s work._

_Cas and Dean chit chat as they walk, and Dean tells the stories of his week picking oranges. To Castiel’s relief, Dean actually enjoyed himself._

_“You wouldn’t believe it Cas; the trees are so tall! They would boost me up so I could climb and toss down the fruit. When I got everything from the high branches, I would jump from the trees and they’d catch me! It was so much fun!” Dean grins as he tells Cas about his week._

_The boy’s knees are scrapped and scabbed over, and he’s littered with a few new bruises that are clearly from hard work and not being beaten._

_“The other slaves were really nice to me, Cas. So were the masters,” Dean says brightly but a cloud drifts over Castiel’s thoughts._

_“Would you be happier away from here?” Castiel asks, selfishly wanting Dean to say no. He would never leave Cas._

_“No. You aren’t there, Lucius isn’t there. It’s okay for a little while, but I missed you,” Dean says simply, as if Castiel’s worry is foolish._

_“He speaks the truth, master,” Alia says quietly, cheeks flushing pink from embarrassment at speaking out of turn. Castiel’s worried look must encourage her because she continues. “The friendship between the two of you, your profound bond...it...it gives the rest of us hope.” She finishes with a sigh and a dreamy expression as she looks to where the two boys’ hands are nearly touching._

_Dean wrinkles his nose and pulls away from Cas. “Eww, we’re not like that.”_

_Cas gapes, staring between his two companions as he tries to decipher something he clearly isn’t understanding._

_Alia covers her laugh with her hand as she takes in Castiel’s confusion. “Not yet,” She says to Dean with a teasing tone._

_This is the most Castiel has ever heard her speak without being questioned and finds he quite like the sound of her voice even if he doesn’t understand the secret conversation she and Dean are apparently having. She should speak more often._

_“Here, let me take that Cas,” Dean offers, changing the subject, as they come within a block of home._

_“Dean, let me take everything. If Mistress sees you after sending us away so Master wouldn’t see you…” Alia gestures to the two boys, giving Dean a pointed look._

_Castiel nods. “You’re right, Alia. Good idea,” He compliments, and she blushes, ducking her chin. “Dean, you should go first.”_

_Dean nods and hands off his bundles to Alia before helping her take Castiel’s as well. “Your room tonight?” Dean questions, knowing how Castiel hates sleeping alone._

_Cas nods and Alia coos at the two of them. “What? I sleep better with him there,” Cas pretends to scowl, but he isn’t quite sure what he’s scowling for. He just has the feeling he should._

_“I understand, Master,” Alia says coyly, and Cas suspects he’s being mocked. By Alia of all people!_

_Cas huffs and shakes his head. “I liked you better when you were quiet,” He grumbles, but he’s careful to flash her a smile so she understands he isn’t upset._

_Alia barks a quiet laugh and trudges along behind him._

_His mother seems to be none the wiser when Cas pushes through the garden door with Alia close behind._

_Dean is already at work in the kitchen helping Lucius and the two boys share a smirk when they catch each other’s eyes._

_“Castiel, good. I was beginning to worry,” Portia coos while sending Alia an accusing look._

_“The markets were very crowded, Alia was a great help finding everything,” Castiel answers, going to his mother easily. “Will Pappa be home soon?” He questions, changing the subject._

_Portia huffs but shakes her head. “He waits for you in the garden,”_

_“Gratias, Mother,” Cas flashes a smile and steers himself toward the kitchen. He hopes that Lucius might have some fresh bread for him to taste on his way to his father._

_“Castiel, I trust you enjoyed your time in the market?” Lucius asks with an arched brow, looking up from his work to give his young master a soft smile._

_Any doubt that Castiel had about Dean’s appearance vanishes. “I did,” Castiel nods. “I believe I have you to thank?” He asks with a slight head tilt._

_Lucius’ smile widens slightly, and he dips his chin. “I feel it might not be wise to keep your father waiting, young one,” Lucius says lightly as he absently holds out a still steaming roll of bread._

_“Thank you, Lucius,” Castiel says brightly as he takes the offering and uses the kitchen as a pass-through to the garden. He flashes Dean a happy grin as he passes, and the younger boy returns his smile fully._

_“Pappa,” Castiel greets and dips his chin in reverence to the older man._

_“Castiel, I wish to discuss the celebrations with you,” Felix rests his hand on his son’s shoulder and guides him along the path._

_The garden is small but neatly kept. This time of year means the weather is cool and the flowers dormant. The lack of flowers means lack of interest for the woman of the house and Castiel knows his Pappa was out here for a reason._

_“Yes, Pappa,” Castiel answers as he lets his father guide him to one of the low benches lining the path._

_“Do you have your gift for Dean?” Felix questions._

_“Yes, Pappa. Lucius too,” Castiel says, tugging at his tunic absently as he stares at the ground in front of him._

_“Such a generous young man you are. You make me proud, my son.” Felix pats Castiel’s shoulder. “But I must speak to you about your relationship with Dean. Your mother feels the two of you are too close. A master should not love his slave, son, or think of him as a brother.”_

_“I don’t, Pappa, I don’t love Dean. Not as a brother or a friend,” Castiel lies with a furrowed brow. Dean is his best friend, but he learned long ago not to admit as much to his parents no matter how often they accuse him of favoring the other boy._

_Felix gives Castiel a knowing look and a faint nod. “I understand, my boy. But your mother wishes to sell Dean, to protect you.”_

_“No!” Castiel nearly cries out but manages to restrain himself. “He’s mine, and I do not wish to sell him.” Cas clenches his jaw and lifts his chin, leveling his father with as a stern a look as a boy of twelve can muster._

_“Then Dean shall stay,” Felix answers with an uninvested shrug._

_Castiel tilts his head and studies his father, waiting for the man to continue._

_“But,” He eventually says and lets out a heavy breath. “Dean might be best served if you do not give him such a handsome gift for Saturnalia. I will not let your mother sell the boy, but I cannot stop her from being overly hard on him. He is good to you, a good slave, and he would not deserve the misery your mother wishes to inflict,” Felix explains and Castiel wilts with each word._

_He knows his mother hates Dean; she has never made a secret of her ire for the young boy. “What should I give him then?”_

_Felix takes a deep breath. “Give him this instead and allow me to gift him the sandals. Your mother would not dare to rebuff the boy for a gift from me,” Felix holds out a woolen tunic, plain but new and clean. A fine gift and one that could not be deemed inappropriate. “You may tell Dean the truth if you wish, I am certain he would understand.” He adds when he takes in Castiel’s crestfallen expression._

_Castiel had been so proud to have saved enough to trade for the high-quality sandals. They are not meant for slaves, but Castiel is weary of watching Dean cut his feet on the harsh cobblestones that make up the streets._

_And the streets aren’t even the worst of it. Dean’s feet fare far worse when they accompany Felix to check on the groves along the slope of the mountain and each cut pains Castiel deeper than Dean will admit the pain bothers him._

_“Alright, Pappa.” Cas doesn’t see how he has a choice._

_His father will do as Castiel asks where Dean is concerned. He had meant what he said when he purchased the boy. Dean belongs to Castiel. Not Portia._

_Castiel._

_“Good. Now that the matter is settled, we must discuss the feast,” Felix continues and Castiel’s smile returns. He loves the Saturnalia feast where he and his father serve their slaves a fine dinner._

_He doesn’t mind that his mother declines to take part in the tradition. She doesn’t have fun with it like they do. It’s better that she always disappears to her private room during the celebrations and allows everyone else to have their fun._

_After a small eternity that Castiel spends itching to talk to Dean, his father releases him and Cas all but runs back into the villa._

_“Dean!” Cas skids into the kitchen and earns a cross word from Lucius when he nearly tips over the large vessel of fermenting garum._

_Cas wrinkles his nose when the reek of rotting fish reaches his nose, but he ducks his head in apology regardless._

_“Oh, Castiel,” Lucius shakes his head fondly at the boy. “Do be careful, your mother would not appreciate all her precious garum spilling on the floor.”_

_Cas snickers. Neither he nor Lucius understands Portia’s fondness for the rancid smelling stuff, but it doesn’t matter if they understand._

_“Now go, before you get underfoot,” Lucius shoos him away dramatically, “Dean is tidying your room. Apparently, you have forgotten how to pick up after yourself while under his care.”_

_Cas rolls his eyes and turns away, determined to find Dean and tease him about the gifts tomorrow._

_He knows Dean is going to love both his presents and Cas can hardly wait to give them to him._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This isn't important to the story, so feel free to skip, but I'm going to take the time to admit that my version of Rufus is heavily laced with a real person from my childhood. His name was Bill, and Rufus has reminded me of him since he first appeared on Supernatural. Bill was a grumpy old man with a heart of gold, always at the pier near my house (I chose Punta Gorda for a reason). While my mother was not a drug addict/alcoholic and my Dad worked very hard to keep a roof over our heads, I had a lot of time to myself as a kid and I spent a lot of that time down by the water. I was seven when I first met Bill. A little kid, alone, with a broken fishing pole. Over the years, he taught me more than I could have ever thanked him for and the fact that I never got the chance to tell him that sits like a knife in my chest whenever I think of him. I'm not sure where I would have ended up without his guidance, and for that, I will be forever grateful.


	5. Fourteen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cas struggles to adjust to some recent changes in his life and makes a very poor decision. 
> 
> Meanwhile, in his dreams, Cas realizes that he's developing feelings for his best friend and they both have a scare.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Fourth of July! If you're celebrating, I hope you have a wonderful and safe day. I'm bored at home, so I decided to post a bonus chapter. 
> 
> I hope you enjoy. As always, Thank you for reading!
> 
>  
> 
> Special warnings: This chapter contains non-con drug use and attempted (and very unwanted) sexual advances toward a minor by an adult.

“Mom?” Cas calls out as he pushes through the door. It’s been nearly a year since Naomi last left him alone. She’s been trying. Even from the front door, Cas can smell something burning and he chuckles to himself. His mom is trying to cook. Again.

They both know that it’s better if she doesn’t.

Cas kicks off his shoes after he closes the door behind him and follows his nose to the kitchen.

“Hi, sweetie,” Naomi says as he turns the corner into the kitchen. A pan on the stove smolders and there is smoke pouring from the oven. Her hair is frazzled as if she’s been pulling at it and a firm frown is etched into her features.

Cas tries not to laugh.

He cocks his head and studies his mother, hoping that this version of her is the one who is here to stay. He doesn’t care that she can’t cook. She’s _here_ and even mostly sober. “Need any help?” He asks softly, cocking his head.

“No, no. I’ll figure this out,” She dismisses, waving her hands at the mess as if that will suddenly make the burnt remains become edible.

Cas nods with a slight frown, knowing better than to push. For all the positive changes she’s made, Naomi still has a temper that flashes hot and quickly.

“You go and do your homework, I’ll call you when dinners ready,” Naomi says as she steps forward to press a gentle kiss to Castiel’s forehead.

Cas tries not to recoil from her touch, but the task isn’t easy. A year is not enough time to make everything okay between them.

The hell Naomi had put him through before child protective services showed up on their doorstep a year ago is still fresh in his mind.

She had only realized how far off the rails she had gotten when her so-called boyfriend had broken through Castiel’s locked door in the middle of the night and tried to hurt Cas in ways that had terrified Naomi even through her drugged and drunken stupor.

She had taken up Castiel’s aluminum baseball bat and struck Alex over the head with a sickening crunch, leaving him bleeding and slumped over Castiel while the boy screamed and cried, trying to shove the man off him.

The police had found Naomi’s drugs when they came to take Alex away and child protective services came the very next day.

One slip up, and they’ll take him away.

Since then, Naomi has been trying.

They both pretend that Cas hadn’t been able to hear her sobs through the running water of her shower as her body was wracked with tremors when the drugs had been working their way out of her system.

But she has been a better mother in the last year than she had ever been to him.

That must count for something.

“Ok, Mom,” Cas says with a forced smile as he turns to shut himself in his room, the lock is still broken from where Alex had forced his way in. A reminder of how tenuous this peaceful portion of his life really is.

Hours pass and Cas has long since finished his homework and still Naomi hasn’t called for him. He’s a freshman in high school, but the work is too easy.  His teachers keep pushing him to take the advanced placement exams, but he’s too afraid to ask Naomi for the money needed to take the tests.

She can barely pay their rent as it is.

Asking her to spend extra money just for him to take some tests is not an option.

He gives thought to poking his head out his door and checking on his mother, but a prickle of dread in his stomach keeps him in place.

If he can’t see, he can at least pretend that everything is still okay.

His stomach growls angrily, he hasn’t eaten since breakfast and he only had that because he’s charmed the ladies in the cafeteria at school and they take pity on him.

Even in Florida, Naomi has a reputation.

He settles on his bed, clean sheets and all since he learned how to work the washing machine years ago. He can’t remember the last time his mother had done his laundry, but that’s okay. He doesn’t need her to do anything other than to keep a roof over their heads.

If Uriel is to be believed, Cas wouldn’t even need her for that if Cas would be willing to work for the older boy.

A not so small part of Cas is interested in Uriel’s offer, but Cas has seen the effects of the drugs Naomi has done most of his life.

Does he really want to help sell that poison to other people?

So far, he’s resisted Uriel’s offers, but he knows better than to think the older boy will stop pressuring him.

The promise of money is tempting, but he’s sure Rufus might murder him if he goes down that path. His friendship with the old fisherman is an odd thing, but Cas treasures their quiet moments and Rufus’ harsh way of showing he cares.

A quick glance to his clock shows the hour is after eight. He needs to be going to bed shortly and the apartment is shrouded in silence.

Did Naomi give up her attempt at cooking?

Cas finally decides to venture out of his room, holding his breath to brace himself for whatever he might find.

The charred remains of Naomi’s cooking are gone. The kitchen is clean and empty. Castiel’s heart sinks as he glances around, his mother nowhere to be found.

She’s gone.

Cas’ heart clenches in fear and his eyes clench.

No. She can’t be gone.

She can’t have relapsed.

Except, deep down, Castiel knows she has.

He knows that it’s only a matter of time until she falls back into her old habits and he’s left alone again.

He drops his chin, closes his eyes, and forces himself to take deep breathes as anger wells in his chest. The sensation clouds his thoughts and his fists clench as unbearable pressure threatens to push a sob from his lungs.

His throat grows tight as he stands in the middle of their small kitchen, swirling despair makes his knees weak and his hands shoot out to grip the countertop to keep himself from falling to the floor.

Tears escape his eyes and track down his cheeks just as the front door opens at the mouthwatering aroma of hot pizza filters in, quickly followed by Naomi’s harsh perfume.

Cas chokes back a pained sob of a laugh that devolves into a harsh and manic giggle.

“Castiel?” Naomi questions as she turns the corner into the kitchen and sees her son hunched over the counter, cheeks still wet with tears. “Honey, what’s wrong?!” She tosses the pizza box onto the counter and rushes to draw him into a tight hug.

Cas continues to sob and laugh as Naomi runs a hand that is intended to be comforting up and down his back. He wants to push her away but he’s just too tired. “You came back,” Cas mumbles against her shirt as he buries his nose against her shoulder.

“Of course I came back,” She answers as if she would never consider abandoning him again and that incredulous tone forces another strained sob of laughter from Castiel. “I gave up trying to cook and went for pizza. You like pizza, right?” She pushes him back up keeps a light hold on his shoulders as she stares, searching for the reason for Castiel’s tears.

Cas nods and forces another smile. “I love pizza,” He answers after he swallows hard around his tears and pushes his hurt back into the steel box he stores it in when he needs to be strong.

“Good,” Naomi says with a smile, Castiel’s breakdown already forgotten as she turns away to pull out paper plates.

“Thank you, Mom,” Cas is sure to say as he loads his plate and takes a seat at the table.

Naomi settles across from him and they eat in silence.

Cas pretends not to notice the empty look in her eyes as she eats. He wonders sometimes how much of her is here and how much of her is dreaming of filling her stomach with alcohol and her nose with cocaine.

He’s learned in school that addicts never fully recover. The temptation is always there, waiting to take hold. The best defense against addiction is to never start. He doesn’t know how true that is, he wants to believe that people can change. But he has no doubt that his mother struggles every moment of every day to be here for him.

She’s sick. That much he understands.

He only hopes that she’s strong enough to keep fighting.

He just can’t convince himself that she is. Not unless he helps ease her burden.

He decides right then that he’ll take Uriel up on his offer.

When Naomi fails, he needs to be able to take care of himself.

\---Three weeks later---

            “What do you say, Novak? Wanna work for me?” Uriel sneers as he flicks the collar of Castiel’s ratty T-shirt.

            Cas takes a deep breath, staring down his own body and hating how ill-fitting his clothes are. He’s been going through a growth spurt and Naomi can’t afford new clothes for him every two months.

            Uriel graduated last year but he still hangs around the school and he quickly zeroed in on Castiel. Cas is clearly poor and underfed but he’s scrappy. All the school bullies learned early on not to mess with him after Cas laid one of them out with a single uppercut to the jaw last semester.

            Of course, this only made Uriel grow insistent in his offers.

            “Fine,” Cas says tiredly as he rolls his eyes. He feigns indifference but his heart is hammering wildly in his chest and his stomach flutters with nervous energy.

            Uriel’s grin widens and he throws his arm over Castiel’s shoulder and draws him into a domineering side hold that can’t really be described as a hug.

            “I knew you’d come around,” Uriel coos as he begins to guide Cas away from the school. “Just come with me now and we’ll talk specifics. With your baby blues, you’ll be my top seller. I just know it.”

            Cas clenches his jaw but allows Uriel to dictate their direction.

            “We’ll get you set up with a starter list of clients and I’ll take you on the rounds for the next couple weeks, make sure you know what you’re doing,” Uriel rambles as they walk and Cas feels more and more dirty with each passing moment. “But first, we’re gonna test the merchandise. Gotta know what you’re selling.”

Cas tenses at that. He doesn’t want to ‘test the merchandise’. He doesn’t even want to sell this shit, but he needs the money. He needs to help his mom. “I don’t want to,” Cas interjects, his hammering heart lurching painfully as panic begins to seep past the nervous flutter in his stomach.

            “Oh, come on, Castiel,” Uriel chastises. “It’s just a little E. You’ll love it, I promise.”

Ecstasy. Cas does not want to try Ecstasy or any other drug. “I’ll pass.”

“Not an option,” Uriel’s tone hardens from sickly sweet and falsely kind into something harsh and commanding. “If you’re going to work for me, you will do as you’re told. Understood?” Uriel stops walking and forces Cas to face him. Uriel’s harsh tone and arched brow leave no room for argument and Castiel’s heart sinks.

Cas forces a weak nod. He needs the money.

“Good boy,” Uriel says a little too brightly as he claps Cas on the shoulder approvingly.

\---

            This was a bad idea.

            Cas knew it was a bad idea before he even said yes.

            Now, he really knows it was a bad idea.

            His skin is crawling, his heart racing and he can barely tolerate standing.

            Uriel promised this would be fun. That Cas would enjoy the feeling of the ecstasy pumping through his veins, making the music come alive and the world explode in beautiful colors.

            This is not fun.

            His legs might as well be lead weights and his stomach lurches painfully if he dares to open his eyes.

            He just wants to throw up.

            “Cassie, you okay there, kid?” Uriel slurs and Cas clenches his eyes tighter at the sound.

            “No,” Cas manages to croak and Uriel laughs.

            “Guess E ain’t for everybody,” The older boy dismisses with a wave of his hand and Cas begins to wish for death. “You’ll be fine.”

            Cas doesn’t believe Uriel. Not at all.

            He does not feel fine.

            Every anxious thought and nightmare he’s ever had forces itself to the forefront of his mind. He feels like he’s drowning under the weight of it all and he can’t see a way to escape.

            This is the _worst_ and Cas doesn’t know how he’s going to manage waiting for the drugs to wear off.

            He clenches his eyes tighter and presses his sweaty palms over his ears. What is enjoyable about this? He can’t fathom why anyone would ever do this to themselves.

            But, as Uriel said, what other people choose to do isn’t his problem. They provide a service. If people choose to buy from them, that is their decision and Cas shouldn’t feel bad for other people’s poor decisions.

            “Don’t make me do this again,” Cas manages to whine, the words leaving his lips like a plea even though he can’t force his eyes open to look at Uriel.

            “Don’t worry kiddo, no more E for you,” Uriel claps Cas on the shoulder and Cas recoils from the unexpected touch with a flailing cry. “Jesus kid, calm down. I ain’t gonna hurt you.”

            Tears well in Castiel’s eyes at Uriel’s exasperated tone.

            He only has himself to blame for his hell and he can’t help but dread what Dean might think. The best times of his life are when he’s with Dean in dreams or fishing with Rufus. He’s made a dreadful mistake here. He knew that before Uriel pressed that unassuming little pill into his palm.

            He curls himself into a little ball in the corner of Uriel’s living room and weeps quietly.

            The drugs coursing through his system have his heart racing painfully and he just doesn’t care what the older boy might think of him at this point.

            Time seems suspended as Cas squeezes his knees tighter and tighter until his elbows ache from the force.

            Uriel leaves him to his misery, only the sound of some show on the television that Cas couldn’t care less about fills the silence between them.

            Subconsciously, Cas knows Uriel is still in the room and he’s grateful for his minimal level of care. He can feel the young man’s eyes on him, but Uriel doesn’t speak a word.

            He leaves Cas to work through his pain and fear on his own.

            They both know that only time will make this right.

\---

_When Cas opens his eyes, bright light is pouring into the room and he’s staring up into bright green eyes and golden cheeks dusted with freckles. A face more beautiful than could ever be captured in sculpture or mosaic._

_Dean grins brightly and gives Cas one more playful shove to draw him fully from sleep and Cas barks a sharp laugh when the other boy’s fingers dig into his ribs to tickle him._

_“Dean! Stop!” Cas gasps, trying his best to stifle his laughter so his mother doesn’t overhear their playful banter._

_Dean’s grin softens and he withdraws his hands. “You awake now?” He says with an arched brow and mischief burning brightly in his eyes._

_Cas nods but doesn’t speak. His groin pulses at the sight of Dean’s broad smile and he clutches his blanket tight over his waist with a groan. He can’t tell Dean about this._

_Ever._

_Cas feels like a creep, crushing on his best friend and servant. He refuses to think of Dean as his slave anymore. He hates that word._

_If he were able to have what he wants, Dean would be his equal in every way._

_At fourteen, they’re both too young for what Castiel’s body is beginning to want and Cas knows that is something he could never ask of Dean._

_He doesn’t care that legally he would have the right to do whatever he wants to Dean._

_He will never take anything from Dean that the other boy isn’t eager to give._

_“I just need a minute,” Cas blushes and tries to sit up without encouraging his stubborn erection. His father says feeling like this in the morning is normal for a man._

_Castiel shouldn’t be ashamed._

_But he still flushes crimson and his cheeks heat with embarrassment. “I…I can dress myself this morning,” Cas manages to say but he buries his head in his hands when his voice cracks comically and pitches his at the end of his words._

_Dean all but snorts as he tries to hold back his laughter at Castiel’s misery, but he claps Cas on the shoulder playfully. “Alright. I’ll go fetch your breakfast,” Dean says lightly as if Castiel’s entrance into puberty wasn’t the most hilarious things he’s ever witnessed._

_Cas looks up at Dean with narrowed eyes as he puts on a brave face. “You’re next. You know that, right?” He says flatly and tries to arch a brow. Dean has always been better at that, but Cas still tries._

_Dean gulps with exaggerated dread but the twinkle in his eye gives him away. “Still gonna have fun with this right now,” Dean says with a wink and Castiel’s inside clench painfully as his flagging erection perks back up._

_“You suck,” Cas groans as he flops onto his back and buries his face in his hands, earning himself another snort of laughter from his supposed friend._

_“Get dressed, Cas. I’ll be right back,” Dean says lightly as he ducks through the door and closes it softly behind him._

_Cas lays there for a moment, knowing he doesn’t have much time before Dean comes back. He debates touching himself to relieve the pressure but decides against it. He doesn’t like doing that and always feels guilty to imagining Dean as he does._

_No._

_He won’t do that today._

_Cas takes a deep breath and determinedly ignores what his body is demanding._

_Instead, he pushes himself from his bed and selects his most comfortable tunic. The one that’s slightly too big and won’t draw attention to the problem at his waist._

_By the time Dean returns with the large tray of meats, cheeses, and fruit, Cas is fitting his bulla around his neck. He needs only to put on his sandals, and he will be ready to face his schoolmasters for the day._

_He really hates school, but he refuses to complain to Dean about it. He told Dean once, about his teacher beating them when they can’t remember something, and he still feels weak for his despair when his friend is forced to endure so much worse._

_No. Castiel won’t complain._

_“What will you do today?” Castiel questions as he picks up a slice of fresh cheese and pops it in his mouth._

_Dean shrugs and picks up a grape. “Same as always. Clean up after you and then help Lucius unless mistress sends me on errands,” Dean says, his tone bright in the beginning but filling with dread at the mention of Castiel’s mother._

_Cas nods, knowing exactly how well interactions between his mother and Dean tend to go. “Father requested I join him at the forum after I am dismissed from my lessons today. I will tell my mother I wish for you to escort me,” Cas says with a pinched frown. That is the best he can do, but he has no control while he’s stuck in school._

_“I would like that,” Dean answers with a soft smile._

_“It is settled then,” Cas nods firmly._

_He hates how little control he has._

_His only solace is the knowledge that he will soon be a man and his mother will not govern him or Dean when his father chooses to bestow him with the toga of a man and removes his bulla._

_Cas and Dean spend the next several minutes eating and filling the air with easy chatter. Cas is certain that his mother knows that he shares his breakfast with Dean, but he is also certain that his father ordered her to turn a blind eye._

_The glare she gives Dean each morning is enough evidence, but she leaves them alone for the most part._

_That is the best they can hope for._

_“We need to hurry,” Dean says as he glances out the window at the quickly brightening sky._

_Cas follows Dean’s gaze and nods. “You’ll take me?” Cas asks, already knowing the answer to his question but needing to hear the words regardless._

_“Always,” Dean answers brightly as he hands Castiel’s sandals to him._

_Cas grins and quickly affixes the shoes to his feet, noting how they’re nearly too small despite only being a few weeks old. He sighs and shakes his head, knowing he will need to show his father that he needs new shoes again already._

_At least his growth spurts are keeping Dean in his lightly used hand me downs instead of being forced to go barefoot._

_Dean hasn’t been barefoot since Cas gifted him a pair of new sandals two years ago and Cas intends for him to never have to go without shoes again._

_“Ready?” Cas asks as he pushes to his feet, snagging one last piece of dried meat from the nearly empty tray._

_Dean nods and gestures for Cas to lead the way. They both know he will clear their mess when he returns._

_Dean waits in the garden as Cas bids his mother farewell and informs her of his expectation for Dean to be waiting for him to visit father later. She nods with a sickly-sweet smile that tells Cas she already knows about Felix’s request and is not pleased with complying._

_She will though. Her place is to obey her husband and maintain her family’s reputation._

_Ignoring her husband’s requests would be obscene and not fit for a woman of her station._

_Cas thanks her regardless, wishing his father would just order her to be nice to Dean, and presses an innocent kiss to her cheek before he leaves to join Dean in the garden._

_Cas narrowly resists the urge to take Dean’s hand in his as they walk but he knows now that would be inappropriate. Castiel’s age now changes the expectations and holding tightly to Dean now would send the wrong message._

_Castiel hates the forced distance between them now that he is no longer protected by the innocence of childhood._

_He is becoming a man and must begin to behave like one._

_Dean deserves that much at least._

_Cas parts from Dean just outside the school after Dean promises to be here waiting for him in a few hours and Cas braces himself before entering the school where so many of his peers have already settled onto their stools._

_Cas settles into his spot and tries to turn his feels off for the next several hours. He will be the perfect little puppet that his lessons demand._

_He will endure, and Dean will be waiting for him on the other side._

_The day drags, but true to his word, Dean is there when Cas steps out into the waning sunshine._

_He smiles for the first time since morning when he takes in Dean’s easy stance as the boy leans against the building, but as he approaches, he can see the fine lines of tension in Dean’s jaw and the slightly too stiff set to his shoulders._

_“What did she do?” Cas asks by way of greeting when he reaches Dean. His eyes scan Dean from head to foot, searching for signs of pain but he finds none._

_He knows better than to think that means Dean is okay though. Dean has gotten too good at hiding._

_Dean swallows hard but forces a smile. “Nothing,” He says too brightly with a shrug and Cas narrows his eyes._

_“Dean,” Cas draws out the name, making it clear that he knows Dean is lying._

_Dean lets out a heavy breath and shakes his head. “It’s fine Cas, really,” He starts walking toward the forum, expecting Cas to follow but Cas stands in the middle of the street and folds his arms over his chest._

_“Dean,” Cas says again, his tone flat._

_Dean’s shoulders slump as he pauses without turning back._

_That is when Castiel sees it._

_A faint streak of blood seeping through Dean’s tunic across the width of his shoulders. Cas feels anger boiling in his veins as he steps toward his friend. “Why?” He demands, ready to wrench Dean around to face him if Dean continues to be aloof._

_Dean sighs and slowly turns. “I dropped the tray, okay! The ceramic broke when it hit the tiles, so she took the cost out on me.” Dean hisses, anger glinting his eyes as he glares at Cas._

_Cas’ jaw drops open slightly and he takes a step back from Dean’s sudden outburst of anger. “Dean…” Cas begins but the curl to Dean’s lip stops him._

_“Don’t,” Dean says shortly, loud enough to earn them some curious glances. “Please, just…don’t,” Dean says, softer this time and Cas feels the tension in his chest turn into a deep ache._

_“I hate her,” Cas says, feeling with words with a powerful conviction._

_“Not as much as I do,” Dean says tiredly, his voice barely a whisper. He could be severely punished if someone were to overhear him speak ill of his mistress, but he and Cas both know the truth._

_Portia takes satisfaction out of making Dean’s life harder than it needs to be._

_They walk in silence for a moment as Cas tries to think of a way to shift the topic to something more pleasant, but Dean beats him to it._

_“I finished the parchments you gave me,” Dean offers with a note of hesitation. They both know he needs to be careful with his words._

_For all an eavesdropper might be able to tell, Cas gave Dean a task regarding the short stories scratched onto thick paper._

_They had been a gift from Castiel’s grandparents when he was only beginning his schooling. Simple stories every Roman boy should know._

_Cas turns a bright smile to Dean. “You did?”_

_Dean nods and smiles shyly, looking down at the street ahead of them as he kicks a pebble with his shoe._

_“And?” Cas prods, wanting to know what Dean thought of the tale about the founding of Rome._

_“Romulus was kind of a dick,” Dean mutters. “I mean, it’s great that he founded the empire and all, but what he did to Remus was pretty cold. After everything they had to do to survive, all they did together. To kill his own brother?” Dean rambles before trailing off and turning back to Cas. “I could never do that to you.”_

_Cas lets out a huff, happy yet saddened that Dean thinks of him as a brother, but he nods with understanding. “Times were different then, I suppose. I could never do anything to hurt you either. You mean far too much to me,” Cas says softly as he bumps Dean’s shoulder._

_Dean gives him a soft smile that has butterflies erupting in Castiel’s stomach and gives him the strength to say something that has been on his mind for a long time._

_“I love you, Dean. I don’t care that my parents, society, whoever, think that I shouldn’t,” Cas says firmly yet quietly and Dean’s cheeks flush as he ducks his chin._

_“Shouldn’t say that, Cas,” Dean mutters, but Cas can hear the pleased note in his tone._

_Cas shrugs, not caring that Dean will probably never know the true depth of Castiel’s feelings. Cas will love Dean in any way that Dean will accept, no matter what society tells them._

_“Do you know what your father wants?” Dean is the next to speak, trying to brush away the awkwardness of Castiel’s declaration._

_Cas frowns and shakes his head. “He only requested I meet him at the forum instead of returning to the villa.”_

_Dean shrugs. “You’re nearing manhood, he probably wishes to acclimate you to the workings of the Senate. I’m certain there is nothing to fear,” Dean says easily but the slight tension in his tone betrays his concerns._

_True, Castiel is primed to follow in his father’s footsteps, but that does not mean the man doesn’t hold greater ambitions for his son._

_Felix began his career as an orator and worked hard to achieve a place on the council to the Roman Senate representing their city in the face of the empire._

_Cas has few doubts that Felix wishes for his son to become a senator, which would be fine if Castiel wished that for himself._

_But a son’s duty is to follow his father’s direction._

_If Felix wishes for Castiel to reach a higher rank than himself, then Castiel shall do his best to reach that goal._

_“Probably,” Cas answers, mind still churning with other possibilities._

_Felix has noticed Castiel’s fondness for Dean. Anyone would need to be blind not to notice. Castiel lives in a constant state of worry that one day his father will wake up and decide he will no longer tolerate his son caring for a slave to such a degree and make the decision to sell Dean as Portia has demanded since they brought Dean home almost a decade ago._

_“The rains should start soon,” Dean observes, blatantly changing the subject to pull Cas from his troublesome thoughts. “The air is finally warming,” Dean tilts his chin into the bright rays of the sun and holds his hands out to soak up the warmth._

_Dean speaks the truth. Flowers are beginning to bud and the chill rolling in from the sea lessens with each passing day. Soon, the side of the mountain will flush green with freshly sprouted grape leaves and gardens will need to be planted._

_Which means Dean will be sent away for nearly two weeks to help with the planting. Felix is paid handsomely for loaning his able bodies slaves to the farmers during planting season._

_That alone might be the reason for his summoning Castiel to the forum. Felix might wish to discuss Dean being loaned out with Castiel now that Cas is nearing adulthood._

_“I told you, I don’t mind helping the farmers. They treat us decently and the work is a nice change,” Dean interrupts Castiel’s thoughts, already knowing where his thoughts have drifted._

_“I hate it when you read my mind,” Castiel grumbles but the smile playing on his lips gives him away._

_“Castiel!” A stern voice calls from the distance and both boys quickly turn toward Castiel’s father._

_Cas jogs up the small hill with Dean following closely behind and they come to a stop in from the imposing building that Felix had just exited. “Yes, father?” Cas says reverently and dips his chin._

_“Thank you, Dean, for delivering my son safely,” Felix gives Dean a nod so faint that it might be imagined, but his tone is warm._

_Dean tucks his chin and lowers his gaze respectfully as he folds his hands behind his back._

_Cas lifts his chin, his stance a mirror opposite of Dean’s, and meets his father’s gaze. Part of him is irritated that his father chose to address Dean before his own son, but a larger part is grateful for the meager respect Felix has for the younger boy._

_Thanking Dean for anything is far more than even polite society would require considering their differences in social standing._

_Felix reaches out to clasp Castiel on the shoulder. “I am glad Dean is here, son, I have a proposal to discuss with you and it concerns the boy.”_

_Cas swallows hard as a pit of dread opens in his stomach. “A proposal?”_

_“Yes. Walk with me,” Felix directs as he releases Castiel’s shoulder and turns toward the large garden behind the main building of the forum._

_“Senator Callix from Rome wishes to purchase a villa here and requires some assistance with moving his belongings. I have offered Dean’s services, but I wish for you to meet with Maximus before finalizing the deal,” Felix explains as they walk, and Cas can feel the unease rolling off Dean as he follows dutifully behind him._

_“How long would Dean be needed?” Castiel asks cautiously, being careful not to let his tone betray his immediate objections._

_“Likely for a season,” Felix answers as if a season is no time at all._

_“What? No.” Cas says fervently before he can prevent the words from passing his lips. He gapes open-mouthed and wide-eyed at his father as his heart constricts. He can’t be without Dean for that long! “I need him here, and what about the farms?” Cas adds hastily, hoping to sway his father._

_“Lucius can manage your schedule, you know that,” Felix chides, offering Cas a stern look. “And this would earn favor from the Senator. That is worth far more than what the farmers could pay.”_

_Cas’ heart races with the force of his objections but he doesn’t see a way to change his father’s mind without forcing the man to consider the poison Portia has been dripping into his ear for years. “I do not wish for Dean to be away for that long.”_

_Cas doesn’t know what else he can say other than that and his stomach plummets with the weight of his failure. He promised Dean his protection, but Cas is powerless against his father’s wishes._

_“I understand that son, but we have your future to consider,” Felix pats Cas on the shoulder as if the idea of losing Dean for even a few months is nothing more than a minor inconvenience._

_Like Dean doesn’t mean everything to Cas._

_“Ah, Felix,” A strange man says as he pushes himself from a garden bench to approach the father and son. “Is this the boy?” He asks, looking past Castiel and directly at Dean._

_“This is Dean, yes,” Felix says with a strained smile and Cas glares at his father through narrowed eyes. “And my son, Castiel.”_

_The too tall and pale-skinned stranger brushed by Castiel without a second glance and circles around Dean with appraising eyes. Cas turns his glare to the stranger and narrowly avoids biting his tongue to point out his rudeness._

_“He is a pretty one,” The stranger declares, still raking his gaze over Dean. “And this mouth…” He grips Dean’s chin and turns the boy’s gaze upward to better stare._

_“Don’t touch him,” Cas demands and steps forward before he can think better of it. The blatant objection to the stranger’s touch in Dean’s eyes screams for help, and Cas cannot stand by and let this man look at Dean like that._

_“Maximus…” Felix interjects, pulling his son back with a frown. “I fail to see what the boy’s mouth has to do with the assistance you require.”_

_The Senator shrugs. “A boy this pretty? It would be a shame to only use him for heavy lifting. Don’t tell me you haven’t had a taste of this.”_

_“Do you dare insinuate what I believe you are insinuating in front of my son?” Felix steps forward and nudges Castiel behind him as Maximus attempts to pry Dean’s mouth open with his thumbs._

_“Oh please, Felix. Your boy is all but a man. I’d bet he would love a go at this one,” Maximus rolls his eyes and Dean clenches his eyes closed, knowing full well what the Senator is implying._

_“Did you fail to see that bulla around his neck?” Felix’s tone hardens into something akin to anger and he steps aside to point at Castiel. “My family does not make use of our slaves in that fashion and I warn you, cease this line of discussion or I will be forced to report your lewd behavior,” Felix’s tone drops into a dangerous register as he approaches the Senator who’s fingers are still prying between Dean’s lips._

_Cas wants nothing more than to rush forward and snatch Dean away, but he must let his father handle this situation. He must trust his father to keep Dean away from this horrible man._

_Maximus hums and ignores the tears beginning to drip down Dean’s cheeks as he releases Dean’s jaw and skates his fingers lightly across the front of Dean’s tunic. “How much do you wish for the boy’s services?”_

_Cas feels anger swelling inside him and he’s stepping forward before he can stop himself. “Do not touch him,” Cas all but growls and Maximus jerks his hand away in surprise before turning a steely glare on Castiel._

_“You need to learn to respect your elders, boy,” The senator hisses and takes a step toward Castiel, only to be stopped by Lucius’ firm hand to the center of his chest._

_“My son has no challenges with respecting his elders. Perhaps, Senator, it is you who must learn to respect the property of others,” Felix says lowly before glancing to Dean. “Dean, do escort my son home. You will not be traveling to Rome with Senator Callix.”_

_Dean does not hesitate and neither does Castiel. The two boys quickly exit the gardens and don’t stop until they are only one turn away from the villa. Cas doesn’t even notice if people are still out in the street, or even where the sun is in the sky. His sole focus is on calming his racing heart and getting Dean away from that vile creature of a man._

_Cas knows all too well that there are no laws protecting slaves from the kind of abuse the Senator was talking about. Never mind that Dean is only thirteen. A master is well within his rights to rape his slaves and the thought causes Castiel’s stomach to twist and lurch._

_He was raised better than to believe any man has a right to another’s body. He doubts even his mother would allow such a fate to befall Dean. That kind of behavior is beneath them._

_Cas looks over to Dean and his heart begins to shatter as he takes in Dean’s ragged breathing and the tears still tracking down Dean’s cheeks._

_“Dean, are you okay?” Cas reaches out to snag Dean’s hand with his own and Dean all but launches himself into Castiel’s arms with a sob._

_Cas quickly guides them around a corner where they won’t be seen and wraps his arms around his still trembling friend. Dean doesn’t speak, but his tears swell and seep through Castiel’s tunic as his entire body shudders with sobs._

_“I’m so sorry, Dean. I couldn’t stop him…” Cas begins to speak, needing to apologize for not being able to protect Dean from ever being touched by that horrid man, but his words fall short of his own expectations. How can he apologize? He doesn’t deserve Dean’s forgiveness. He had promised to protect Dean and he failed._

_He should have stepped forward sooner._

_Dean shudders harder as he sobs silently, a skill Castiel hates that Dean has learned over the years._

_“I promised to keep you safe, and I couldn’t…” Cas mutters with his own sob, his racing heart beginning to calm now that has Dean solidly in his arms._

_“You stopped him,” Dean finally croaks. “I know you’d never let…” Dean starts but breaks off, unable to even finish the thought._

_Cas shakes his head. “I would never stand by and allow that to happen to you. Neither would my father,” Cas says with conviction as he pulls his arms tighter around Dean._

_“I know,” Dean mutters, burying his nose in the crook of Cas’ neck and holding on tight._

_“Dean? Castiel?” Lucius’ soft voice filters around the corner curiously and his footfalls sound lightly on the hard cobblestone. They are close enough to home to see the gate of their garden and Castiel curses that the older slave must have seen them._

_If Lucius saw them, who else might have._

_Cas meets Lucius gently eyes as the man steps around the corner and gives him a flat smile._

_“Dean, my boy, what happened?” Lucius looks at the way Dean is still clinging to Castiel with worry etched in his features._

_Cas can feel when Dean’s breath catches and he loosens his hold, knowing Dean will want to go to Lucius._

_The older slave is the only father figure Dean has ever known._

_Sure enough, Dean pulls away and turns into Lucius’ waiting arms._

_What surprises Castiel, is Lucius gestures him into the hug as well._

_“A senator wanted to…wanted to…fuck me,” Dean says the crass word with venom in his tone, admitting out loud what they all know to be true._

_Lucius tenses and squeezes Dean tighter. “Are you harmed?”_

_His question is loaded and full of dread._

_Dean shakes his head against Lucius’ tunic. “Cas wouldn’t let’m hurt me.”_

_Cas sucks in a breath, feeling that Dean is putting far too much faith in his capabilities. “Pappa stopped him,” Cas adds meekly, feeling shame heat his cheeks._

_“You stopped him, Cas,” Dean says firmly as he pulls back enough to meet Cas’ eyes. Master was going to, I’m sure of it, but YOU are the one who told the senator not to touch me.”_

_“You are turning into a good man, Castiel,” Lucius accepts Dean’s words without question, regardless of the swirling guilt in Castiel’s stomach. “You will be a better man than your father one day, I am certain.”_

_Lucius words would be an insult to many, but not to Castiel or his father. Felix’s most ambitious goal is for his son to be more than Felix himself could ever be. Castiel has the chance to climb the social ladder. A chance to be powerful one day if he plays his part well._

_Lucius compliments Castiel’s father by declaring that Castiel will one day be a better man._

_Cas swallows hard and nods, feeling the pressure of expectation weighing down on his shoulders._

_He doesn’t care about any of that._

_He only wants to keep the people he loves safe from harm._

_“You should go inside, Cas. Master will likely look for you when he arrives,” Dean says through a sniffle, the fear of his circumstances finally beginning to wear off. Within the walls of their villa, he is as safe as a slave can ever be._

_Cas nods just as Lucius speaks “Dean is not wrong. I believe your mother is already watching for you.”_

_Cas groans at that thought. She has likely already heard about the scene Castiel made in denying a man more powerful than their family._

_She will be outraged by the scandal of his disobedience and Cas dread facing her._

_“Fine,” He grumbles under his breath as he extricates himself from Lucius’ protective embrace. “Are you alright, Dean?” Cas dislikes walking away from Dean at any time, but he especially loathes leaving him when he’s upset._

_Dean nods and gives a watery smile. “Fine,” Dean says but his voice lacks conviction._

_“I want you to sleep in my room tonight. Do you mind?” Cas can’t help but ask. Dean has stayed with him before when Cas was younger and prone to nightmares, but he hasn’t slept by Castiel’s side since Portia discovered them twined around each other when Cas was ten._

_She had wrenched Dean from the bed, nearly taking Castiel with him, and smacked him until Castiel was nearly choking on his sobs. She had warned Castiel then of how inappropriate letting a slave sleep in their master’s bed is and demanded she never catch Dean in that bed again._

_Neither boy would like the consequences if that were to happen._

_Dean looks surprised at Cas’ question, but he nods his agreement quickly._

_“Thank you,” Cas gives his friend a small smile and returns Dean’s nod. He’ll create a pile of blankets on the floor next to his bed, away from the door. Dean will have a nest softer than any bed and they won’t be breaking Portia’s rules._


	6. Sixteen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cas thinks he's handling the consequences of working with Uriel until everything blows up in his face. Luckily, he finds that he has some people in his life who are willing to help. Meanwhile, his feelings almost get Dean in trouble.

“Yo, Cas!” Quinn calls and Cas can hear the jock’s feet pattering on the hard floor of the school hallway as he jogs to catch up.

Cas slows his steps ever so slightly, but he doesn’t stop. His job isn’t to pretend to like these asshats who buy from him.

The crowded, locker-lined, hallway seems to extend for miles, but in reality, Cas travels maybe twenty yards before Quinn pulls him around with a grip on his upper arm.

Cas arches a brow and glares, standing still as a statue and just as silent while he lets his eyes communicate his displeasure at being touched.

Quinn drops his hand and takes a step back. “Sorry, man,” He says, quickly rubbing the back of his neck as Cas continues to stare.

“What do you want?” Cas asks, purposefully pitching his voice low. Over the last year, his voice has changed dramatically, and he quite likes the uncomfortable reactions he gets from people when he dips his tone low and roughens the edges.

Quinn stands several inches taller than Castiel, but Cas still glares down his nose at the older boy. He learned a long time ago that acting like they’re all beneath him, as long as they want something from him, keeps them in line.

As Uriel said… act like a badass, be seen as a badass.

“I, uh, I need more,” Quinn says quietly, leaning toward Cas in the crowded hall to keep anyone from overhearing.

Cas gives him a wolfish smile and nods his understanding. The jock is one of Cas’ longest standing customers and one of the few that Cas doesn’t absolutely loathe. “Usual time and place then,” Cas says leaning toward Quinn and giving him two quick pats on the shoulder before sauntering away to his locker.

Quinn doesn’t use Cas’ services to get high or get laid. He uses what he buys from Cas to help keep his grades up and keep himself on the starting lineup.

Not an entirely bad reason, Cas supposes.

Cas makes a mental note to get more Adderall from Uriel. He’s got enough on hand for Quinn, and Quinn only. And he knows the nerds of the school will come calling soon.

Cas turns the corner to find the school liaison officer leaning against his locker and Cas lets out a put-upon sigh. “Again, Raphael?” He feigns weariness and rolls his eyes despite his suddenly racing heart.

Officer Raphael crosses his arms over his chest and glares. “You know the drill, Novak. Open it up,” He says with the same determination as he always does. Every week, he’s absolutely certain Cas is going to leave him something to find.

“This is harassment you know,” Cas says as he works to open his locker. “I haven’t done anything wrong.” Cas lies, but he can’t very well just admit to being what everything thinks he is.

“Then why is that your name comes up every time we find drugs on this campus?” Raphael arches a brow and crowds Castiel out of the way the instant the locker opens. “Drop your bag too.”

“I’m going to be late to class,” Cas says with a huff as he lets his heavy bag of books fall to the floor. Raphael can search all he wants. He isn’t going to find anything.

“Do I look like I care?” Raphael gripes without bothering to look at Cas.

Cas rolls his eyes and huffs. “Can we just get on with it? I would really prefer not to be late to chemistry.”

“Face the lockers, put your hands up,” Raphael says, finally deigning to acknowledge the way Cas has his hands on his hips and is staring impatiently.

Cas rolls his eyes once again but complies. “How about when we’re done with this, I grab my book and get on off to class while you search my shit to your heart’s content. Sound good?”

“Shut your mouth and watch your language.” Raphael quickly frisks Cas from shoulders to ankles, dipping his hands inside Cas’ pockets as he goes.

Cas chuckles as Raphael gives his hips a shove when he’s done with him. “Go to class,” The officer grumbles and Cas turns around with a smirk.

“Always a pleasure, officer,” Cas says snidely as he takes the chemistry book and digs in his bag for a notebook and pen. “I trust you’ll lock my things back up when you’re done?” He arches a brow, aiming for the far edge of the tolerable side of insolence.

“Go to class.” Raphael glares and Cas smiles broadly and gives a mock salute.

Their little dance is sure to continue the next time someone so much as hiccups.

Cas makes his way to chemistry and slides in the door just as the bell is ringing. He gets an arched brow from his teacher, but she doesn’t bother to comment.

Cas shrugs and takes his seat. Technically, he isn’t late.

He notices a few sideways glances from some of his classmates, the ones who wouldn’t dream of setting a toe out of line for fear of tarnishing their college applications.

He returns their furtive glances with an open stare that has most of them flushing crimson and turning away.

Ms. Amara begins the lesson with an explanation of the experiment they will be carrying out the next class session, but Cas quickly zones out. He read over the material last night. He doesn’t need to hear it again.

He turns his attention to his notebook, where in reality he keeps very few notes. Part of his charm is acting like he doesn’t care and then getting straight A’s on every test and assignment.

He begins to sketch an outline of a person he’s already drawn dozens of times and has yet to tire of. His face is nearly symmetrical, a perfection that Cas can’t quite capture no matter how hard he tries. This time, he’s sketching Dean in the morning with his hair askew and sleep still evident in his eyes. The morning sun makes his skin almost glow and Cas smiles to himself as he pictures the way those green eyes look almost mossy in the dim light of their room.

Well, Cas’ room that Dean sleeps in every night that they can get away with.

A folded paper sliding onto his notebook causes Cas to scowl and turn a glare on the boy sitting next to him. His glare softens when he realizes that the note passer is only Kevin Tran, one of the few ‘smart kids’ who doesn’t treat him like gum stuck to the bottom of their shoe.

Incidentally, he’s also one of the few who  _doesn’t_  buy from him.

Kevin tilts his chin toward the folded note so Cas gives him a curt nod and turns his attention to the paper.

_Heard Quinn got busted for Adderall. Coach talked him into setting up his dealer in exchange for keeping his spot on the team._

Cas’ eyes widen and he turns to Kevin with a shocked expression, but the other boy isn’t looking. His attention is trained carefully on the teacher at the front of the room. Cas has no reason not to trust Kevin, especially since the boy tutors a good third of the football team.

Cas’ heart pounds and his hands tremble as he folds the note up tightly and tucks it into the fold of his textbook where it won’t fall out unless pulled on. Just in case Raphael decides to search him again today.

He quickly tears a corner out of his notebook and scrawls a messy  _Thank you_  on it before slipping it across the aisle to Kevin.

Kevin gives him a nod and Cas lets out a heavy breath. He never would have expected anyone, let alone Kevin, to lift a finger to help him.

Cas doesn’t quite know how to deal with that.

The rest of the day passes smoothly with only one more glare from Raphael, but a fight just outside the gym locker room pulls the officer’s attention away for the most part.

Cas sees Kevin walking away from the school when he leaves the building and jogs to catch up. “Why’d you warn me?” Cas asks as he falls into step beside the other boy. He has to know.

Kevin quickens his pace and glance around to make sure no one is paying attention to them. “You’re not a bad person, Castiel,” Kevin says under his breath. “I just don’t want to see you go to jail.”

Cas squints and shakes his head. “But why not?”

Kevin lets out a derisive huff and turns their direction toward the bleachers, away from the crowd of students milling around the parking lot. “Why do you deal?” Kevin asks simply as he spins to face Cas.

Cas comes up short. No one’s ever asked him why. They’ve had no reason to. Kevin stares and Cas swallows hard. He should deny the accusation. He opens his mouth to speak but no words come out.

“See, this is why,” Kevin says as he gestures to the way Cas is floundering. “You act like a tough guy, but you’re not. You’ve got some of the highest grades in the school, and yet you choose to pass yourself off as a troublemaker. Why?”

“Money,” Castiel says, pressing his lips into a flat line. His hackles rise higher the longer Kevin stares at him with an arched brow and stands his ground without the usual fear Cas sees in the eyes of his classmates. “I’ve got to pay the rent somehow,” Cas finally says and Kevin nods knowingly.

“I thought it might be something like that,” Kevin says with a sigh. “Just, be careful, ok?”

Cas nods as Kevin steps around him to leave. “Thanks, Kevin,” He says quietly as he watches the other boy walk away.

His stomach flops and he isn’t quite sure how to feel about what just happened.

The only thing he does know is he’s going home instead of meeting Quinn down at the park.

With him paying the rent, Naomi has been doing so well. Almost three years sober, holding down the same job and almost acting like a mom. She isn’t perfect, she’s still self-absorbed and oblivious to Castiel’s problems in school and lack of friends, but she’s there. And that’s more than Cas had ever expected.

Last year, she took him on a weekend trip to Disney World. At fifteen, Cas had been obligated to find the idea silly and balked just enough to say he tried when Naomi had come home with tickets and a broad smile on her face.

Deep down, Castiel was thrilled and he loved every minute of their time inside the park.

He still has his framed picture of the two of them with Cinderella hanging on his wall.

He doesn’t care that Uriel called him a fag when he saw the picture of him grinning broadly with a fairy tale Princess.

To Cas, that trip represented something he thought he would never have.

A Mom.

Which is why, when Cas pushes through the front door after school to find a cigarette hanging from his mother’s lips and a six pack’s worth of empty beer bottles strewn around, his throat tightens to the point where he can barely breathe.

His heart begins to hammer and despair floods through him as his gaze lands on the empty pill wrappers that he knows belong under his bed.

From the looks of the mess littered around their dirty carpet, she downed most of his supply without stopping to consider what they were.

He had finally started to believe that she was going to be okay. Three years of hard work, gone in an instant.

“How long?” Naomi slurs and Cas fights back tears. She sways even though she’s sitting. “I go through, all the trouble of getting clean, an you’re in your room getting high all the time?!” She grates angrily and tries to push herself from the couch.

Cas rushes to her side and helps her sit straighter. “No, Mamma, I swear. I don’t take them,” He tries to explain, knowing that claiming they aren’t his would be about as believable as saying he was abducted by aliens.

“Bullshit,” Naomi bites, pushing Cas away. The sharp stench of cigarette smoke hangs in the air and burns Cas’ eyes as he takes a hand step backward.

Naomi’s shove only succeeds in pushing herself backward and Cas stares down at her with a lump in his throat.

“I was trying to help. Earn extra money,” Cas decides to go for the truth despite remembering full well how well that works when his mother is high.

“Oh, so you’re dealing? How’s that supposed to be better?” She sneers, her words beginning to run together despite her thoughts seeming clear enough to understand the situation. “S’this why the landlord quit hollarin at me?” She glares, clearly remembering the lie Castiel told her about finally being caught up with the payments.

And then Castiel’s other lie about the rent going down.

She never has been good with money and she hadn’t bothered to question the sudden padding in her bank account.

If people aren’t hounding her for payment, she never stops to think.

Cas nods weakly.

“You think I went through the hell of getting sober, of staying sober, just so you can deal drugs?!” Naomi screeches suddenly and Castiel cringes.

“I’m sorry Mamma, I just wanted to make things easier for you,” Cas pleads with tears beginning to well in his eyes. All her hard work, all his walking on eggshells to keep her happy.

All the progress they had made together.

It all lies in ruins, scattered around the living room in the form of pill wrappers and beer bottles.

“Jimmy never would have done this,” Naomi sneers and Castiel’s fear and hurt suddenly morphs into anger.

“How would you know!” Cas says hotly, clenching his fists at his side. “He died because of you! Because you couldn’t stay sober for nine fucking months!” His voice cracks as he yells but the dam inside of him is breaking. “You killed your own son, and now you blame me for doing what I have to just to survive having you for a mother?!” He bites, regretting the words the instant they leave his mouth.

His heart clenches with hurt. “Mamma, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean that. I love you,” He rambles but Naomi’s shock and hurt hardens into rage faster than he can drop to his knees at her feet.

“Get. Out.” Naomi says calmly. Her words are hard and Cas can almost feel the light inside her give out. The flicker of the woman she could have been dies before his eyes and her descent is entirely his fault.

“Mom, please. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it,” Cas protests, inching closer to her on his knees. An overwhelming pit of blame in his stomach threatens to consume him, but he shoves it down, trying to smooth things over before they can get out of hand.

Quicker than Cas can react, Naomi’s open palm makes stinging contact with his cheek and his head is whipped to the side. “I said get out!” She yells, her voice straining with the quick slipping of her tenuous grasp on her self-control.

Cas doesn’t move. He can’t. His knees feel planted to the carpet even as the stinging in his cheek sings with pain.

“GET OUT!” Her tone escalates into a shrill scream that finally has Cas scrambling backward and heading for the door.

What choice does he have? Tears well in his eyes as he shuts the door behind him and immediately leans against the cool metal surface. He buries his face in his hands as the anger and hurt spills out of him in a sob.

He had known this could happen.

He had known that Naomi would lose control again someday.

He just never imagined her descent would be his fault.

The lock of the door clicks behind him, barring him from his own home, and his heart shatters.

He doesn’t know where to go. He can’t go to Uriel. Not with a few hundred dollars in unpaid-for merchandise floating around in his mother’s bloodstream.

Besides, he doesn’t want to give Uriel the satisfaction of him asking for help.

He doesn’t have anyone else.

No family. No friends. No teachers who care like Ms. Rosen or Gabe.

Rufus. He has Rufus.

That gruff older man pops into Castiel’s head and his feet are moving him toward the building door before Cas can second guess himself.

He blindly follows the route to the pier, hoping the old fisherman is there, and his mind swims with painful thoughts.

Will Naomi remember all this when she sobers up?

Will she sober up?

He spots Rufus in his usual spot at the end of the long dock and Cas stumbles toward him and plops into the extra chair next to Rufus without a word.

“Ya didn’t bring your rod,” Rufus observes astutely, barely taking his eyes off the water to look at Cas.

“Nope,” Cas says plainly, popping the P dramatically.

“Damn boy, who pissed in your Wheaties?” Rufus grumbles. “Ya ain’t gonna force me to pretend to care, are ya?” He turns his head slightly and cocks a brow, giving silent permission for Cas to explain himself.

Cas drops his head back and stares at the sun. “She’s high again,” He says simply.

Cas can hear Rufus’ answering frown. “Sorry to hear that,” Rufus says with uncharacteristic tenderness.

Cas snorts with derision. “S’my own damn fault. I was just trying to help, but she found pills under my bed. I was supposed to take them to a party this weekend,” Cas says in an unintended rush. “Fuck, Rufus. I’m still gonna owe Uriel about five hundred for all that.” He leans forward and drops his head into his hands, not noticing the mask of anger developing across Rufus’ features.

“You mean to tell me you’ve been selling drugs?” Rufus bites and smacks Castiel upside the head with his good hand. Cas looks up and stares, dumbfounded. “Let me tell you something, boy. I didn’t lose my hand fighting for this country, just for dumb kids like you to fuck your lives up!” Rufus’ pitch drops low, but his volume rises as he holds up the stump of his wrist where is his hand should be.

Cas’ jaw drops open and he gapes with wide eyes, mind scrambling for ways to backpedal. “Rufus, I’m sorry…I was just doing what I had to do.”

“No. Listen here and listen real good. You’re gonna stop all this bullshit and get real god damned job if you wanna help your mamma. I don’t wanna see you ‘round here again unless you clean up your act,” Rufus glares with narrowed eyes and Cas swallows hard.

“Ok,” Cas manages to gulp. “Ok. I promise. No more drugs.” Cas means his words with all his heart. He can’t keep doing this.

“Good. You ain’t usin that shit too, are you?” Rufus accuses and Cas shakes his head vehemently.

“No. I swear,” Cas promises. “I hate it.”

“Good. Now quit bein a dumbass, dumbass,” Rufus says with a scowl and Cas sags in relief for a moment before the reality of his mom kicking him out begins to sink in.

He sucks in a deep breath and lets it out slowly. He doesn’t know what to do if he can’t go home. He’s not old enough to be on his own, he’ll get picked up and shipped off to who knows where.

“What now?” Rufus gripes, letting his fishing pole lean against the wooden railing as he turns to glare at Castiel.

“My mom kicked me out,” Cas shrugs, deciding he may as well just tell Rufus the truth. If Rufus is giving him a chance at forgiveness for dealing drugs, then maybe he’ll offer some advice for what to do next.

Rufus barks a laugh and shakes his head. “Boy, I knew you was trouble from the day we met.”

Cas can’t help it; Rufus’ laughter is contagious, and Cas finds himself chuckling before dropping his chin back and laughing. “I am so fucked,” Cas manages to say through his laughter.

Rufus smacks him on the shoulder, hard, and glares. “Watch ya damn mouth.”

“But you swear all the time!” Cas protests, gripping his arm dramatically.

“Yeah, well, I’ve been through enough shit to have earned that kind of language. You boy…well, you’ve only earned words like damn and shit,” Rufus says sternly, pointing with his index finger.

Cas huffs a laugh and shakes his head, not willing to argue with the man who is likely his only friend. “Fine. I’m damned screwed. That better, old man?”

“Much,” Rufus agrees and goes back to fishing, allowing Cas to help when he manages to hook a large skipjack. The two of them bring the fish in with good-natured ribbing and then Rufus takes over the messy job of cleaning, holding tight to his rule of ‘you catch it, you clean it’.

“You got somewhere to go tonight?” Rufus asks with an arched brow as he packs the fish away and cleans up his gear.

Cas shrugs. “Dunno if she’ll let me back in,” He answers honestly. He has nowhere to go but home.

Rufus gives a put-upon sigh and shakes his head. “Damn kids. Fine, come along with me. I got a couch you can sleep on. But you’re cooking!”

“Really?” Cas’ asks as his mouth drops open.

Rufus doesn’t deign to give Cas a response, he merely starts walking down the pier and get about halfway before Cas manages to collect his wits and follow.

“Are you sure?” Cas questions, automatically reaching out to take the folding chairs from the older man. He’s known Rufus for years and never once has the man indicated that he has any desire for Castiel to see where he lives.

Hell, half the time Cas can’t even tell if the older man likes him, or merely tolerates his presence.

“Don’t make me rescind my offer,” Rufus stops walking long enough to roll his eyes with a scowl.

“No sir, thank you,” Cas says in a rush as he continues to walk beside his friend.

“Dammit boy, how times do I gotta tell you. Don’t call me….” Rufus starts but Cas cuts in.

“Sir. I know. Sorry, Rufus,” Cas finishes the line with a smile and is pleased to see a smirk on the other man’s face.

As it turns out, Rufus lives only a five-minute walk from the pier and Cas is not surprised to see a highly organized mess when the man pushes through the door and beckons Cas to follow.

Piles and piles of books clutter the living area and Cas sees what he thinks is a television leftover from the 1960s, covered in such a thick layer of dust that he doubts the antique even works.

Rufus leaves his gear outside and drags his chest full of fish into the kitchen before kicking off his shoes and ordering Cas to do the same. “Don’t forget, you’re cooking tonight,” Rufus reminds but Cas get the feeling that he would be forgiven if he were to claim he shouldn’t.

As it is, Cas doesn’t mind.

“The jack?” Cas questions with a tilt of his head and Rufus nods.

“Got some potatoes in the cupboard and spinach in the fridge. Get to it,” Rufus grumbles but Cas can see the man is watching him closely, waiting for a sign of hesitation.

Cas gives Rufus a smile and nods. “Got it.”

And Cas does. An hour later, he’s calling Rufus to the table despite the man’s grumbling about preferring to sit on the couch, in the front of the TV. Cas rolls his eyes and reminds the man that his TV is covered in an inch of dust that no one could hope to see through.

“It’s not the point,” Rufus grumbles but offers Cas a can of soda before seating himself at the table. “You done good, kid,” Rufus nods appraisingly as he surveys Castiel’s work.

Cas ducks his chin to hide his smile. He can’t remember the last time someone has told him he’s done something right. Even when Naomi was having a good day, she still was not an affectionate woman or loose with her praise. “Thank you, for everything,” Cas mumbles as he serves himself a portion of the fish.

He knows he isn’t a great cook, but necessity has made him a decent one. Especially when it comes to fish.

They eat in relative silence and then Cas cleans up their dishes before Rufus shoves a well-worn pair of sweatpants into his hands and points him to the shower.

Cas strips down and stares into the mirror at his reflection. He’s gotten pale again, working for Uriel has meant he’s been staying out late and missing the bright Florida sunshine that darkens his skin so easily. He has dark circles under his vivid blue eyes that he rubs at, wishing he could will them into disappearing.

He’s still too thin, but his ribs don’t stick out as much anymore and his hair is still in the perpetual state of just a touch on the side of too long.

Nothing he does ever seems to tame his wild locks and he’s given up even trying.

As he waits for the water to heat, he wonders about Dean. He’s never been able to afford to talk to anyone about the green-eyed boy of his dreams. Cas can’t help but wonder if Dean is out there somewhere, dreaming of him.

Cas wants nothing more than to have Dean here with him in the real world. Maybe life would be better if he had Dean to confide in and draw comfort from.

An hour later, after Rufus throws some blankets at him, points to the couch, and bids him a good night, Cas lays in the dark and he still thinks about Dean.

He rolls onto his side, trying to ignore the bar of the sofa digging into his side, he wraps his arms around his pillow and imagines that it’s Dean he’s holding. That his life in Ancient Rome is his real life and everything else is simply a dream.

If a few tears seep down his cheeks, well, that’s between Cas and the darkness surrounding him.

\---

_When Cas wakes, Dean is in his arms and everything is right with the world. He has a vague sense of something being wrong, but that feeling dissipates as he takes in the way the freshly risen sunlight reflects off the freckles on Dean’s sleeping face._

_He wants nothing more than to lean forward and press his lips to Dean’s, but he won’t. He can’t._

_He thinks maybe, sometimes, that Dean is interested in him like that, but he can’t be sure enough._

_“I love you, Dean,” Cas whispers as quietly as he can and Dean snuffles in his sleep._

_They’re breaking the rules by sleeping like this, but Cas doesn’t care. He convinced his father to allow him a lock on his door for privacy, so he trusts they will not be interrupted._

_Yesterday was difficult. His first day with his rhetor and he’s already certain he’s going to hate this phase of his schooling as much as his last. Dean had come to him in the middle of the night when Cas’ whimpers woke the younger boy from his own sleep._

_It had taken some convincing, but Cas had managed to get him to climb into the bed instead of settling beside it and now Cas has the privilege of waking up with Dean right here, warm and soft and safe beside him._

_The occasion where Castiel wakes first is rare. Dean is usually awake as soon as the sky begins to gray with early morning light and come to wake Castiel after the fires are lit and the morning meal is prepared._

_A small kernel of pride blooms in his chest. He would like to think that the reason for Dean’s continued slumber is the comfort he finds with Castiel, or at least the added comfort of Castiel’s freshly stuffed mattress. Cas is going to let himself believe that Dean is sleeping so well because of him and not the bed._

_Careful not to move, Cas lets himself marvel at Dean’s sleeping features for a few more minutes as the light of day begins to light the room and he knows he needs to wake the other boy._

_“Dean,” Cas whispers as quietly as he can at the same time he gently extricates his arm from around Dean’s waist. Dean's fingers tighten against his forearm to keep him from leaving and Cas smiles. “Dean, it’s time to get up,” Cas whispers again with a smile._

_Dean’s nose crinkles and he groans in protest when Cas finally frees his arm from Dean’s grasp, but he still doesn’t open his eyes._

_Cas’ smile grows. Dean never sleeps in. He isn’t allowed to. Dean protesting waking like this is something Castiel has never seen and he can’t help the delighted little chuckle that escapes his lips._

_Dean’s eyes fly open at the sound and he flails wildly, scrambling to fly from the bed and assume his duties in a blind panic. The squeak that escapes from Dean only makes Cas’ chuckles turn into laughter as Dean nearly trips over his own feet._

_“Dean!” Cas reaches out to steady the other boy._

_“I can’t believe I slept in,” Dean breathes as he stops in the center of the room and digs his fingers into his hair and pulls. “I’m in so much trouble!” He turns to Cas with wide eyes and Castiel’s laughter dies instantly._

_He should have woken Dean up sooner._

_His selfish desire to keep Dean to himself may have earned the other boy a whipping if Portia notices._

_“It’ll be okay, Dean. Just…” Cas starts, trying to think of a way to make it look like Dean has been up this entire time. “Just, stay here. Start cleaning like you normally do after breakfast. I can get myself ready. Everything will be fine.” At least, Cas hopes they can act their way out of this._

_Dean nods and lets out a shaky breath. “It’ll never work,” He shakes his head, hands still buried in his hair. At least he isn’t pulling anymore._

_Cas arches a brow and waits, watching the wheels turn behind Dean’s wide green eyes._

_Finally, Dean drops his hands and nods. “Ok. Ok,” He mutters, turning toward the bed to hastily draw the covers up and over._

_Cas watches Dean fuss for a moment before hurriedly stripping out of his sleep clothes and tossing them into a corner. Dean will deal with them soon enough._

_He selects the first tunic he grabs, hoping it’s clean enough, and quickly dresses before he rushes out the door. He’s not behind schedule, not really, but normally he would have already eaten by now._

_As it is, he needs to pretend Dean brought him his breakfast like he always does._

_His stomach growls as he speaks with his mother and bids his father farewell for the day. Neither of them seems to have noticed Dean’s absence from the kitchen this morning or Castiel’s lack of breakfast and for that, Castiel is grateful._

_He isn’t surprised they didn’t notice. They’re never up as early as the slaves who maintain their household._

_As if their morning routine had never been altered, Dean meets him just outside the kitchen to walk him to school with his eyes downcast. Cas doesn’t miss the faint tremor in Dean’s shoulders, and he hates that Dean has good cause to be so afraid._

_“Ready?” Cas asks, swallowing around the lump in his throat. He wants desperately to assure Dean that no one noticed, but his mother might still be listening, and he doesn’t dare deviate from their usual ritual._

_“Yes, Castiel,” Dean mutters, bowing his head respectfully in a way he only does when he knows they’re being watched._

_Cas hates it when Dean says his full name. Those last few letters just sound so wrong with Dean’s voice behind them._

_Cas nods and gestures for Dean to lead the way even though they’ve gone through his part of their day hundreds of times._

_“Castiel, Dean,” Lucius whispers from the kitchen before Dean has a chance to turn toward the garden. “Come through here boys. I need to speak with you.”_

_Cas follows Lucius without question and Dean readily follows._

_“Take these,” Lucius says as he presses a small bundle into each boy’s hands. Cas looks down and sees the same contents of his morning meal stuffed inside a soft bread roll._

_He lifts his gaze in question and tilts his head slightly._

_“You need to eat. Now go, eat as you walk. You mustn’t be late,” Lucius says by way of explanation and Dean’s cheeks flush crimson._

_“I can’t…” Dean protests, making to hand his stuffed roll back to Lucius who only holds up his hands._

_“She did not notice your tardiness, but she is the only one. None of us will breathe a word, your business with each other is your own,” Lucius says plainly, and Cas feels his own cheeks heat as Lucius’ knowing tone washes over him._

_“It isn’t like that…I wouldn’t…” Cas begins to protest, eyes widening._

_Lucius holds up his hand once more with a wry smile. “We know that, young master. You are a man of honor who will wait as long as you must.”_

_Cas breathes out through pursed lips and drops his gaze while Dean stares at him with a faint smirk playing on those plush lips. Cas swallows hard around the words that refuse to come. Lucius knows his feelings, that much is true and now Dean knows too._

_“Now go,” Lucius shoos them away and Cas turns to bolt through the door to the garden with Dean on his heels._

_Once outside, Cas takes a deep and shuddering breath and refuses to meet Dean’s eyes. His appetite is gone, the knowledge that Dean now knows he was tangled up in bed with someone who has been thinking such lewd thoughts about him…Cas can’t even begin to apologize for violating their friendship._

_“Cas,” Dean starts but Cas walks faster, breakfast clutched in a hand that hangs at his side. Dean takes an overly large bite of his roll and chews openly with a loud hum. “S’really good, you should eat,” Dean mutters through his mouthful and Cas cringes._

_“Not hungry,” Cas grumbles, doing his best not to watch Dean’s food being destroyed through his open mouth._

_“Cas, come on,” Dean reaches out to stop him and Cas freezes at the other boy’s touch._

_“Dean, I’m sorry, I never meant…” Cas starts but Dean silences him with a finger over his lips. Dean’s smile is fond and Cas swallows hard as he stares into those deep green eyes._

_“I know,” Dean says, tone almost flippant and Cas absolutely knows that Dean is pretending not to be bothered. “You’re my best friend, Cas. I know we’re not supposed to be, but we are. I trust you.”_

_Cas’ heart sinks at Dean’s words. Of course, Dean doesn’t share in his feelings. Why would he? Dean calls him his best friend, but he’s still Dean’s master. He has no business pining after Dean, there is no way Dean could ever freely give himself to Cas. To love Cas as Cas loves him. It would not be fair of Cas to ask that of him._

_Cas nods, because what else can he do? He will always do everything he can to protect his friend, his love, no matter that Dean doesn’t return his feelings. He owes Dean that much. As soon as he’s able, he will set Dean free and let him leave._

\---

When Cas goes home after school the next day and lets himself into the apartment, his heart pounds in his chest and his hands tremble with nerves.

Uriel was furious with him, even after Cas paid him for the pills and then some out of the money he had been saving. Uriel had shouted threats as Cas had walked away, doing his best to keep his shoulders square and his chin high.

Truthfully, he’s terrified of what Uriel might do.

But for the moment, Cas is more terrified of what Naomi might do.

How much will she remember from yesterday? Will she revert to her old habits and leave Cas to fend for himself again?

Will she kick him out for good?

“Mom?” Cas calls out as he pushes through the door. He quickly scans the living room, noting the mess scattered over the living room has grown since he left. The stench of stale beer hits his nose, informing him that at least one can was left unfinished before Naomi started throwing things after she kicked him out last night.

He’s met with silence and a glimmer of hope begins to grow in his gut.

If she isn’t home, maybe she sobered up enough to go to work.

He immediately begins to clean.

The empty cans and bottles go into a fresh garbage bag and he uses the last of the carpet spot treatment to clean up the stains left behind from the spilled beer.

The pillows go back onto the couch, stripped of their casings to go into the wash and soon enough Cas has the space looking as if nothing had ever happened.

Now he has nothing to do but wait.

He makes dinner, simple spaghetti and a jar of sauce, timing it just right for when his Mom should be home from work.

She’s late.

Hours later, and she still isn’t home.

Eventually, Cas gives up and readies himself for bed.

He hasn’t slept with his lock turned in over a year, but he does tonight.

With his baseball bat under his pillow and a small light kept on, Castiel waits.

He doesn’t sleep.

He doesn’t dream and he misses Dean fiercely. Sleep is his escape. His dreams are the only time he can relax and be content, with his best friend by his side. Last night had hurt, learning without a doubt that Dean doesn’t share his feelings, but he can accept that.

He finds his thoughts drifting to the fanciful notion that maybe Dean is real. Maybe he’s out there somewhere, free and dreaming of Castiel.

Maybe they would have a chance of being together in this life. If only Cas could find him.

He needs to do better. Needs to be better if he’s ever going be the type of man Dean could love.

If Dean could even love a man.

Now that is something Cas doesn’t want to think too deeply on.

His heart couldn’t take knowing that he will never have a chance.

How cruel would fate be to give him these dreams and allow him a chance to find Dean, only to have them hold incompatible sexualities?

Cas is far more interested in men than women. He’s known for some time, but he’s never voiced that aloud to anyone. Not even himself. There’s only one person Cas wants, and he lives in Castiel’s dreams. What would be the point of talking about it?

If Dean doesn’t want him, then there is no one for him.

Who would want a poor boy with a drug addict mother who has pretty well had to raise himself? He doesn’t get along with his peers. They’re spoiled brats who are more worried about what new cell phone is coming out or whining about what their parents won’t buy them. How can he relate to them? He doesn’t even have a cell phone, can’t afford one.

Even since Naomi has,  _had_ , been doing better, he’s still hopelessly out of date with movies and music.

Those things pale in importance compared to simply surviving.

He watches the numbers tick by on his alarm clock and still Naomi doesn’t come home.

Dawn inches across the sky and his alarm clock blares while Cas still stares blankly at the ceiling.

No Naomi.

No matter. He doesn’t need her. She’ll either come around or she won’t. He’ll be fine either way.

He takes a deep breath and pushes himself from his bed to begin his day.

Last week, one of his teachers had recommended he speak with her brother about a job at the local community college. At the time he had shaken his head and said “Thanks, but no thanks.”

Now, he’s got to swallow his pride and ask to meet with this Chuck. Ms. Amara is his chemistry teacher and she says Chuck is the head of the college’s small archeology department.

Cas has to admit the idea sounds intriguing, and Ms. Amara promised him that she’s certain he and her brother would be a good fit. He needs a job if he’s ever going to stay away from Uriel.

His school day goes slowly and by the time lunch rolls around and Cas is finding his usual spot in the library, he isn’t certain if he’s actually been in class all morning or if he’s simply imagined it through a haze of exhaustion while still at home waiting for his mother to come home.

His next period is chemistry and also his chance to speak with Ms. Amara about her offer.

He hopes she hasn’t changed her mind.

He decides to go to class early, hoping to speak with her before more of his classmates arrive. It takes some careful dodging to avoid Officer Raphael, who seems to be on a particular mission to hunt him down today, but Cas makes it to the classroom unscathed.

“Ms. Amara?” Cas says as he takes in the way his teacher has her head bent over her desk. Probably grading assignments on her lunch break.

She looks up with a smile. “Castiel, what can I help you with?” Her head tilts slightly as she speaks, and Cas once again feels a slight shiver of unease. She has always seemed nice enough but the stern undercurrent in her voice makes him a little bit uncomfortable at times.

“I, uh, I was wondering if maybe you could tell me more about the job at the university? With your brother?” Cas wrings his hands, not quite meeting her eyes as he speaks. His stomach is alight with nervous butterflies, afraid she’ll laugh at him and tell him to forget it.

Ms. Amara only smiles wider. “Chuck needs an assistant. He won’t admit it, but he does,” Her tone holds fond amusement that prods Cas into raising his gaze to meet hers. “I think you and Chuck would get along well; we all have a similar background you know.”

Cas’ widen at her admission and she smiles knowingly with a shrug.

“Our parents were rather absent; Chuck and I were left to our devices most of the time. I recognize bits of us in you, Castiel. Working with my brother would be good for both of you,” Amara continues and Castiel feels nervous panic welling in his stomach.

He feels exposed, naked before a near stranger and unable to move.

“Chuck specializes in studying Ancient Rome. Lately, he’s been going on and on about beginning a long-term project centering around the excavations of a city buried almost two thousand years ago. Have you heard of Herculaneum?” Amara keeps talking innocently but Cas’ ears fill with fuzz at the mention of Herculaneum.

He nods dumbly, chest constricting painfully at the thought of unearthing the buried city he grew up in. He needs to meet Chuck. There is no question anymore. If Chuck can bring him closer to his dreams, then he needs to do whatever it takes to work with him. “Please,” Cas manages to stammer.

“Alright then, I’ll give him a call,” Ms. Amara says with a smile, oblivious to Castiel’s nervous energy.

The other students are beginning to file in, sparing Cas curious glances as he leans over his teacher’s desk, watching her write down Chuck’s information and listening intently to her directions.

“Chuck will be expecting you after school today. Does that work for you?” Amara says and Cas nods vigorously.

“Yes, Ma’am,” He agrees, holding tightly to the piece of paper she hands him.

“I’m glad you’re doing this, Castiel,” Amara smile sweetly and gestures for him to take his seat.

“Thank you,” Cas says as he turns away, hoping that Chuck might be able to help him find the answers he needs.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Sunday! I *promise* Cas' story isn't all rough and depressing. He has some good times ahead...just not quite yet.
> 
> As always, thank you for reading and for your wonderful comments.


	7. Seventeen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Castiel faces major turning points in both sides of his story. The best day of his life in his dreams leads him to open up to Chuck about his life in Herculaneum and, most importantly, about Dean. Afterward, Cas must face one more painful blow before he can find the strength and freedom he so desperately needs.

“Castiel Novak. Do you know why you’re here?” Principal Magley stares across his desk with his hands folded in front of him.

Cas sucks in a breath through his nose and digs his fingers into the arm of the chair he had been dropped in by Officer Raphael. He shakes his head. “No, sir.”

Cas knows why he’s here. He knows exactly why. Fucking Uriel attacked him outside the school yesterday and then went and got busted for selling drugs. Cas is pretty sure his former employer was high on something, the bastard probably told them everything.

The Principal sighs and the officer behind Cas folds his arms over his chest. Cas’ heart hammers wildly as he waits for the hammer to drop.

“The fight yesterday with a former student. What was it about?” Magley questions, still staring at Cas with a blank expression that gives him absolutely no cues.

Cas closes his eyes, mind scrambling for a story. Any story. “I don’t know.” He lies and forces himself to meet the principal’s gaze.

“He gave you a black eye and you don’t know why?” Magley arches a disbelieving brow. “Couldn’t it be that maybe you owe him money?”

Cas narrows his eyes. The man is reaching. “Not a chance.”

“Mr. Novak…” The officer cuts in. “Your name has popped up too many times for Uriel’s attack to be a coincidence. So, if you would please cut the crap and just tell us how you know Uriel?” He arches a brow and tucks his thumbs into his duty belt when Cas turns in his seat to glare.

Cas lets out a heavy breath and buries his head in his hands. “I don’t owe that bastard a damn thing,” He says before turning his chin up to stare at Principal Magley.

“Castiel, I know enough about you to know that you’re one of our most at-risk students. I only want to make sure you’re staying out of trouble,” Magley says and Cas’ stare turns into an offended scowl.

“At risk? Why, because my mother is a drug addict?” Cas asks as he pushes to his feet. “I’m nothing like her!” His temper flares brightly and he forces himself to take a deep breath to reign it in.

This isn’t the first and it probably won’t be the last time they try to manufacture trouble.

The Principal holds his hands up in surrender just as the officer barks at Castiel to sit down. “Castiel, please. We’re only trying to help.”

“Help? Right…” Cas bites through clenched teeth. Where was their help when Cas was begging the lunch ladies for food because he was _starving_?

He hasn’t dealt for Uriel in over six months. He will not be dragged down for that now.

“Some other students have mentioned your name when they were caught with illegal substances. Care to explain why that might be?” The officer steps forward, staring Castiel down as he asks the same question he’s been asking for almost three years.

Junior year is so close to being over, Cas refuses to fall into their trap now.

“Castiel, I understand your frustrations, but we are only trying to help. Please, sit back down,” Magley says firmly, gesturing to the seat Castiel vacated only moments before.

“Why? So, you can railroad me until you decide that I’m guilty of something no matter what?” Cas hisses, barely keeping himself from shouting.

“Castiel, please…”

“If you want to know something, just fucking ask me!” Cas glares.

“Watch your language, young man,” Magley says with a firm glare.

“Are you dealing drugs for Uriel?” The officer demands as he steps into Castiel’s space.

“No,” Castiel says the truth firmly, glaring right back at the man.

“Would you object to a search of your person and locker?” Principal Magley asks.

Cas spins to face him and narrows his eyes. His jaw is clenched so tightly that his teeth are beginning to hurt. “Do you have any idea how many times I’ve already been searched and you’ve never found anything? What’s one more,” He eventually says with a dramatic roll of his eyes.

As soon as the words are out of his mouth, the officer’s hands are on him, spinning him and manhandling him to the side of the room. “Hands on the wall,” He says and Cas’ clenches his jaw tighter as he complies.

They won’t find a damn thing.

The officer’s hands trail up and down Cas sides, dipping into his pockets and coming up empty. Once satisfied that Cas isn’t carrying anything on his person, he turns away and reaches for Cas’ backpack.

“Have a seat, Castiel,” Magley points to the chair once again and Cas drops into it with a huff.

“I’m not dealing drugs and I don’t do drugs. You won’t find anything,” Castiel says, flatly. He’s trying to keep his hammering heart under control, he’s not exactly interested in having a conversation.

The officer dumps the contents of Cas’ bag onto the center of the desk and digs through everything, even going as far as to shake out the textbooks for anything hidden between the pages. “Nothing.”

Cas rolls his eyes. “I told you! I have nothing to do with Uriel and I am not like my mother!”

“Come with me and open your locker. The school would rather not pay for another broken lock.” The officer narrows his eyes and Cas is sure the bastard is determined to find something.

Cas turns back to the Principal. “Are you targeting me because I’m not some pampered little rich kid? I can’t possibly be a good kid, can I? Not with a mother like I have…”

“Castiel, that’s enough,” Magley says coolly.

Cas narrows his eyes but holds back the words he would really like to say. Instead, he pushes to his feet and turns toward the door to follow the officer. “Lead the way, _sir_ ,” Castiel says to the man with absolutely zero respect in his tone.

Castiel has nothing to hide. Not one single pill hides in anything he owns.

It still takes an hour for the officer and the principal to be convinced and when they’re done, they send Castiel on his way to class like nothing unusual ever happened.

Cas spends the rest of the day with his fists clenched to keep himself from visibly trembling. The students in his remaining classes give him sidelong glances but the glares he gives them keeps everyone at a distance. Rufus demanded he clean up his act, and Castiel did. He washed his hands of Uriel and found a good job. A respectable job.

He’s doing the best he can and still, his mother’s cloud hangs over him.

The final bell rings and Cas wastes no time is fleeing the school. One more month of this bullshit and then he’s free for the summer.

Predictably, Naomi isn’t home when Cas shoves his way through the door that afternoon. He’s not working today, so he grabs his fishing gear and storms his way down to the pier within five minutes of getting home.

He has no interest in being in that apartment.

Especially since Naomi hasn’t been home in days.

Fishing with Rufus always calms him down and today will be no exception.

He’ll fish for his dinner, help Rufus if the old grump will allow him to and then go home to eat. And hopefully, if he has any luck remaining, Dean will be waiting for him when he goes to sleep.

\---

_“Cas!” Dean shouts and Cas runs harder, fighting back his laughter. They’re getting too old to play these games but sparring with Dean will always be one of his favorite things._

_Since Cas’ feelings were brought to light, he’s been trying to stomp down on the way he watches Dean, but he can’t help but notice the careful Dean has been watching him lately._

_He refuses to give into the nervous flutters in his stomach and let himself think that maybe Dean is beginning to see him in a different light, but those lingering glances and the way Dean will chew his lip when he doesn’t think Cas is watching are hard to ignore._

_For now, though, he chases after Dean and slowly closes in on his friend as he does his best to not think about the slow simmering attraction tormenting his gut._

_Dean barks a laugh and stops suddenly to spin and face Castiel, dropping into a crouch as he prepares to defend himself._

_Cas mirrors his stance and grins as he begins to circle. Dean is predictable, they’ve been play fighting since they were boys under Lucius’ instruction. The older Greek man is well versed in many things, including combat. Cas is certain there is nothing the man doesn’t know._

_He drops his shoulder when Dean shifts back on his feet, preparing to kick out toward Cas’ stomach. When Cas rushes forward with a low kick, Dean doesn’t even try to dodge and Cas finds himself on top of his friend, pinning Dean to the earth below with a wide grin plastered on his face._

_Dean doesn’t struggle and that alone is enough to give Cas pause. Dean never gives up, for him to be this still, Cas is certain that something must be wrong but Dean simply stares up at Cas with wide eyes that cause Cas’ breath to catch in his throat._

_They’re both panting, trying to catch their breath as Cas holds himself above Dean, bracketing the younger man’s hips with his knees as Cas holds tight to Dean’s wrists._

_Cas feels his bare calf brush against the skin of Dean’s thigh, and he doesn’t miss the way Dean’s breath hitches and dark centers of his eyes widen._

_Cas drops his forehead to Dean’s, unable to move and unable to look into Dean’s eyes any longer. Their warm breaths mingle, and Cas feels the tension in the air as strongly as the soft grass beneath them._

_He can’t be imagining the way Dean has been looking at him._

_Cas has been careful to keep his distance, to not act on the longing that has been building in his chest for several seasons, but lately, Dean has made the sensation harder to ignore._

_He draws his head back at the same time Dean’s pink tongue darts out to lick his lips. The sight nearly makes Castiel keen with the desire to taste those lips, to lick the salt off them himself. When Dean’s gaze flits to Castiel’s mouth, he’s nearly done for._

_“Dean,” Cas whines when Dean bites at his lip, his green eyes begging for an answer to a question Castiel is afraid to acknowledge. He stares at Dean’s lips; he can’t help it. They’re so plush and tempting, turning into a little pout that turns Cas’ stomach in knots as Dean stares up at him. He needs to push himself off Dean, but he can’t quite bring himself to move. Not yet._

_“Cas,” Dean breathes and Castiel’s eyes widen at the barely contained need in the other man’s tone._

_Dean surges up before Cas understands what’s happening, but nothing else matters anymore. Dean’s lips are on his and Dean is pulling him down, pulling him closer. Dean is everything that matters in the world right now._

_Cas whimpers as their lips move together with Dean warm and solid beneath him. Cas drops onto an elbow and runs his fingers through Dean’s hair as Dean urgently digs his fingertips into Cas’ shoulder._

_Dean melts beneath him and parts his lips just enough for Cas to really get a taste. Cas takes control, licking into Dean’s mouth with a needy hum. His love for Dean makes his heart swell and ache. In this moment, they are simply them. Not master and slave. There is no power imbalance. Cas would give anything Dean might ask; he would serve Dean until the end of time if only Dean allows him to keep this feeling of completion._

_Cas lets his hand roam over Dean’s side while Dean buries his fingers in Cas’ hair and holds him close. Time seems to stop until Cas’ fingers are brushing through Dean’s hair and they both part for some much-needed air._

_“Cas,” Dean breathes and Castiel’s heart clenches painfully._

_Their reality crashes back around them but Cas is determined to hold onto Dean for a just a little bit longer, while he can._

_Seemingly without cause, Dean barks a laugh that has a grin spreading over Cas’ face as well._

_They both laugh, Cas outright giggling to the point where he has no choice but to drop his forehead to Dean’s or else crush his friend completely._

_“You’re heavy,” Dean pretends to complain as he shoves at Cas’ shoulders, rolling them so they can both lay flat in the grass._

_“I’ve wanted to do that for months,” Cas blurts, not knowing what else to say. He grins toward Dean, taking in his love’s bright green eyes._

_“Me too,” Dean admits and Castiel’s heart seizes. Has Dean really been wanting this? “Gods, what now?” Dean continues and Castiel’s smile dims as Dean abuses his lower lip between his teeth once more._

_“You know how much you mean to me,” Cas whispers, needing to tell Dean exactly what Dean needs to understand. Dean watches with caution and Castiel knows exactly where Dean’s thoughts have gone. “I’d never force myself on you,” He hurries to explain but Dean merely smiles serenely at him._

_“I know, Cas, I know,” Dean murmurs, hand reaching over to cover Castiel’s. “I…I want this. I want you.” He avoids Castiel’s gaze and Cas can feel Dean’s doubts as deeply as his own._

_Cas smiles gently and rolls to face Dean. He cups Dean’s cheek in his hand and carefully turns Dean’s lips toward his own, capturing them in a chaste kiss. “Then you shall have me.”_

_“Your parents…” Dean starts, pointing out the obvious before biting his lip once more. For another year, they have all the power. Cas is powerless against his father, and his mother has threatened to sell Dean more times than anyone can count._

_“I won’t let them hurt you, carissime,” Cas says with firm determination. He will free Dean as soon as he is able, and he only hopes Dean can trust him enough to give him a chance. “I am yours to do with as you wish.”_

\---

“Castiel, are you well?” Chuck questions the instant Castiel settles at his desk and picks up his files.

Cas feels lighter than air and can’t help the foolish grin on his face. “I’m fine,” Cas shrugs, trying to play off his uncommon happiness as nothing worth mentioning. His anger from school yesterday has dissipated thanks to his dreams and today has been much better.

Chuck tilts his head, considering Castiel’s demeanor before giving a hum and turning back to his books.

“Are we still analyzing the pottery fragments and their lead content?” Castiel questions, trying to keep to the subject at hand.

Chuck has been studying ancient Roman food and drinking vessels for the bulk of his career and has been applying for grants to move his study in situ. He wants to travel to Herculaneum and participate in the excavations and Castiel wants to travel with him.

Chuck nods his confirmation and gives another hum as he adjusts his microscope and returns to his work.

Cas sighs and shakes his head. Chuck is a great guy, really. In the months they’ve been working together, Castiel has learned a self-confidence he had never had before. Even Naomi’s backslide into drug use hasn’t been a total disaster.

She had lost her job, sure, but Cas has been using every last dime he earns with Chuck to keep a roof over their heads and food on the table. He can barely do it, and he’s half convinced the raise Chuck gave him a few months ago was more out of a desire to help Castiel than the fact that his work ethic deserved the extra two dollars an hour.

The files consume his attention after a few minutes, his eyes searching out patterns between pottery samples and an attempt to identify trends through the ages.

He has about three hundred years of examples to sift through and only three hours to do so.

The file in his hand is dated 25 CE – 80 CE and is filled with photographs of pieces that bear a strong resemblance to the plates and bowls he’s used hundreds of time in his dreams. “These were all found in Herculaneum?” Castiel questions and tilts his head when he comes across one piece that doesn’t fit. He can’t explain why, but deep down he knows this plate fragment must be categorized wrong. The blue glaze paired with this specific shade of yellow is something that just wasn’t done.

“Yes,” Chuck mumbles without looking up from his work.

“This one is wrong,” Castiel says before he can think better of his bold accusation.

Chuck freezes and a beat of silence passes before he lifts his eyes from the microscope and turns toward Castiel. “Show me,” He orders, his tone still as soft as ever but clearly commanding.

Cas pushes to his feet and approaches the man who has become his mentor. “See the glaze, here and here,” Castiel says as he points to the areas in question. Chucks brows raise and his lips purse. “The colors don’t fit. They did blue with green, and with red during this time…but not this kind of yellow. It was bad luck,” Castiel can’t explain how he knows this, he doubts Chuck would believe him if he said he’s been living in Ancient Herculaneum through his dreams his entire life.

“Interesting,” Chuck mutters, eyeing the photograph closer before pushing from his seat to find the sample the photo was taken from. “Where did you hear about certain colors being bad luck?” Chuck spares Cas a raised brow as he carefully lifts the lid on the storage box and lifts the fragment with gloved hands.

Cas fumbles for words before giving a shrug. “Dunno, must have read it somewhere,” He excuses, hoping that maybe simply being right about that piece not fitting will be enough to distract Chuck.

“We know of several symbols and omens thought to bring bad luck, but I’ve never heard anything about color combinations. No one has,” Chuck fixes Cas with a firm stare as Cas gapes like a fish. “You’re a bright boy, Castiel. A fast learner, but this isn’t the first time you seem to know something you shouldn’t. Explain yourself,” Chuck demands without a hint of anger.

Cas takes a shuddering breath and drops his head into his hands. “I can’t,” He says, refusing to meet Chuck’s gaze.

“Castiel, look at me.” Chuck’s tone softens as he sets the fragment aside. “Tell me what you’ve been hiding.”

Castiel lifts his gaze in surprise. How does Chuck do that? How does he see past all of Cas’ bluster and demand the truth? “You’ll think I’m crazy,” Cas finally admits, wanting nothing less than to tell Chuck the truth.

Chuck simply crosses his arms and stares, waiting.

Cas stares back, unyielding.

Eventually, though, Chuck wins and Cas lets out a heavy breath. “I’ve been dreaming of living in Herculaneum my entire life,” Cas finally says, and Chuck looks confused.

“Okay…you can do that someday, you know? There is a more modern city built around the ruins…” Chuck starts but Castiel’s growing confusion causes him to stop and resume staring.

“That isn’t…” Cas shakes his head. “That isn’t what I meant. In my dreams, Chuck. I live there in my dreams.” Cas takes a deep inhale, hoping to stem his trembling. This is where Chuck tells him he’s crazy. He’ll probably be fired. Can’t have a crazy person doing such sensitive work.

“Interesting,” Chuck mutters, tilting his head. “In what time period?”

Castiel gapes, barely believing that Chuck isn’t berating him and throwing him out on his ass. “Uh, I’m not sure of the year. Around 70 I think.”

“That’s fantastic!” Chuck's pale blue eyes brighten, and he takes a quick step toward Cas before remembering himself. “What, uh, what makes you think that?” Chuck stammers, trying to reign himself in.

Cas takes a deep breath, steadying himself. “My mother, Portia…she…well, everyone _now_ knows her as The Ring Lady,” Cas drops his gaze and rubs the back of his neck. He can’t believe he’s telling Chuck any of this. He can’t believe Chuck hasn’t called him crazy.

“Oh, that’s, I’m so sorry, Castiel,” Chuck looks crestfallen at Castiel’s words, surely putting the pieces together that Castiel has been ignoring for so long.

“I don’t know what happens yet,” Castiel is quick to interject. “Dean and I might escape.” Cas covers his mouth with his palm. Yet again he’s said more than he should.

“Dean?” Chuck questions. “Who’s Dean?”

“No one,” Cas answers a little too quickly.

“Castiel. Tell me everything. Who is Dean?” Chuck prods and Cas shakes his head.

“My boyfriend. My best friend,” Cas says, carefully not mentioning that Dean is also his slave.

“Uh huh, and who is your father? How does he feel about you being in a homosexual relationship?” Chuck barrels right past Castiel’s revelation without a single judgment.

Cas swallows hard, brows furrowing. “He, uh, his name was Felix. He doesn’t know about me and Dean, thinks we’re only friends.”

“Interesting,” Chuck nods and gestures to his office. “I have several questions I’d like to ask you about your dreams if you don’t mind. I think your knowledge could prove incredibly valuable.”

Castiel nods dumbly but follows Chuck’s lead. “You don’t think I’m crazy?” He can’t help but ask. Surely, he must be dreaming. Chuck can’t possibly believe that his dreams are real, that they mean anything at all.

“Not at all,” Chuck dismisses. “Many cultures believe that dreams are a window to past lives.”

“Uh huh,” Castiel mutters with disbelief as he settles into a chair across from Chuck. The cluttered desk stands between them, but Cas feels as if Chuck is close enough to breathe down his neck.

“Now, tell me. When the did the dreams start?” Chuck questions and Castiel answers. He tells the man everything. As the hours slip past, Cas begins to relax. He even tells Chuck the truth about Dean and how he would do anything to free the younger man from his bondage.

Chuck listens intently, asking for clarification here and there, but mostly just letting Castiel talk.

This is the first time Cas has ever told anyone about his dreams and he finds the experience liberating.

He’s floating when he pushes through the front door of his apartment that night and he can hardly wait to fall asleep and join Dean in his dreams.

“Castiel Novak?” An unfamiliar voice stops him in his tracks and Cas looks to the sofa in his living room with surprise.

“Who are you?” Castiel bites, already backing himself toward the door. This man doesn’t look like a dealer or someone his mother would be involved with, but Cas learned long ago not to trust strangers. This one wears black slacks and a crisp white shirt with a tie done up tight. He looks professional, but that doesn’t explain why he’s broken into their apartment.

“My name is Victor Henricksen. I’m a lieutenant with the Miami Police Department. I’m afraid I have some bad news for you. Would you please have a seat,” Victor explains as he pushes to his feet and holds out placating hands to the obviously frightened boy.

“You’re a cop,” Castiel mutters with a nod. “From Miami. And you broke into my home?” Cas tilts his head, not believing this man’s story.

Victor pulls out his badge and shows Castiel his identification. “The door was unlocked. Please, have a seat,” Victor gestures toward the couch after Castiel studies his badge and looks up at him with wide eyes.

“I would rather not,” Castiel says plainly with narrowed eyes. “Whatever my mother has done, it has nothing to do with me.” Cas can’t imagine any other reason the police would show up like this. He’s done nothing wrong. Not in the last year at least.

Victor lefts out a heavy sigh and throws his hands up lightly in defeat. “I was sent to inform you that your mother was admitted to Miami-Dade Memorial after an overdose yesterday morning. She is not expected to recover, and your name was the only next of kin we could find…” Victor trails off but Castiel stopped listening long ago.

“She…she…” Castiel stammers, eyes clouding over with a mix of disbelief and anger as he watches the older man steps toward him.

“I am sorry, Castiel, I realize this must be difficult for you. But as a minor, you cannot be left to your own devices unless you can prove you are in a safe environment, do you have any close family members you can stay with?” Victor’s tone is kind, but Cas can’t help the laugh that bubbles up in his chest.

He’s been left to his own devices before, when he was much younger than he is now, and the law didn’t seem to care about that then. “I’ll be eighteen in three weeks, I can take care of myself, I’ve been taking care of myself for years.” Cas says bluntly, shaking his head. He doesn’t need someone to take care of him.

Victor takes a deep breath and steadies his gaze. “We will set you up with a social worker to discuss the particulars.” Cas begins to protest but Victor holds up a hand. “For now though, I think you should come with me to the hospital.”

Cas immediately hates his man, but he can’t deny that he’s probably right. He needs to see for himself that he’s going to be alone for good now. He’s only seen Naomi a handful of times over the last few months and she has been looking pale and far too thin.

But there was nothing that Castiel could do to stop her.

And now, he’s missed his chance.

He drops onto the worn-out sofa and buries his face in his hands. “Miami?” He mumbles through his fingers. Miami is a three-hour drive. “How did she get to Miami?” He mumbles to himself before looking up, his gaze sad but resigned.

He’s certain her car was impounded weeks ago, she couldn’t have driven herself. Did she get on a bus, intending to leave him for good? He wouldn’t be surprised.

He had almost expected something like this to happen, but that doesn’t change the numbness creeping over him.

Victor nods and Castiel sighs.

He needs to go.

He doesn’t want to.

“I…I gotta call my boss at the college, tell him what’s going on,” Castiel mutters, churning thoughts settling on Chuck. If he’s going to be dragged to Miami and then dumped who knows where, he needs to tell Chuck he might be missing work for a while.

Victor nods his understanding. “Of course, take your time.”

“Thank you,” Cas manages to remember to say despite not feeling very grateful. He disappears into his room with the house phone, cursing his lack of a cell phone in this instance. But cell phones are just too expensive.

He pulls Chuck’s card out of his wallet and carefully punches in the number to the man’s home phone and hits dial. He waits for several rings and almost gives up before the line clicks.

“He...Hello?” Chuck's voice comes over the line with a great deal of hesitation.

“Hi Chuck, this is Castiel,” Cas introduces, knowing full well that Chuck hadn’t bothered to check his caller ID before picking up the phone. He sounds like he had been asleep despite the still early hour.

“Oh, Castiel. Is something wrong?” Chuck’s tone takes on a worried note that Castiel appreciates.

“Um, yes. Actually. I… a police officer is here to take me to Miami to watch my mother die in the hospital.” The blunt words leave Castiel’s mouth in a torrent that makes him wince. “I’m sorry, I just…”

“I’m sorry to hear that,” Chuck interrupts. Cas can hear his hard swallow over the line and decides to continue. He has a goal for this phone call and that is not for Chuck to pity him.

“I’m not eighteen, and have no family, so I don’t know what is going to happen. The officer said something about a social worker. I just wanted to let you know I might not be able to come in for a while,” Castiel pushes forward, his tone becomes more strained as he speaks.

“Social worker?” Chuck sounds confused. “But you…you’re…you don’t need someone to take care of you.”

Cas barks a bitter laugh into the phone. “Tell that to the cop in my living room,” He says, only half joking.

“I will be there in twenty minutes,” Chuck says with an air of finality that has Castiel’s jaw dropping open.

“What?” Cas asks, dumbfounded. Surely, Chuck doesn’t think he can influence the legal system?

“Hold tight, Castiel. I will be there to speak with the police officer shortly,” Chuck continues, and Cas can’t bring himself to argue. He hangs up the phone and packs a bag. At the very least, he needs to go visit his mom and speak with the doctors.

Just because Victor said she isn’t going to recover, doesn’t mean the doctors agree. The police officer might be wrong.

He must be wrong.

Naomi is like a parasite. She’ll never go away on her own.

Cas huffs another bitter laugh and internally berates himself for his thoughts. She’s his mother, she deserves a little more respect than to be compared to a parasite.

He’s a terrible son.

This is all his fault. She was doing so well until she found the drugs he had brought into the house.

He knew she had a problem and yet he dangled temptation in front her nose anyway.

He’s killed his own mother.

He drops onto his bed with a heavy sob.

Deep down, he knows that her struggles with addiction have nothing to do with him. She was an addict before he was even born. Naomi’s drug problem is the reason his twin died and left him to be raised as an only child.

Maybe Jimmy was the lucky one.

No, no, no, that isn’t right either.

Nothing is right here.

Tear streak down his cheeks and his fingers dig into his hair.

This can’t be happening.

“Castiel?” Victor calls through the door as he raps his knuckles against the smooth surface. “Are you alright in there?”

“Fine,” Castiel gulps as he scrubs a hand over his face to wipe away his tears. “Just need a minute.” Chuck will be here soon.

Castiel clings to that thought like a lifeline. He doesn’t know what Chuck thinks he’s going to be able to do, but Castiel yearns to have someone in his corner. Someone to look after him. To help him.

“Don’t take too long,” Victor responds through the door and his quiet footsteps trail away, leaving Cas alone in his room.

Cas takes a shuddering breath and grabs his backpack. He doesn’t know how long he’s going to be gone. Will they let him come back for more of his things? He stares at his window longingly, thinking of how easy it would be to just slip out and run to see Rufus. He’s certain the older man would let him in, at least long enough to explain what is going on and then he would be right back out on his ass with the firm command to do as the police are telling him.

Rufus is a stickler for the rules like that and he wouldn’t let Castiel become a fugitive just to avoid having to stay with a stranger for a few weeks.

No. Castiel needs to face whatever is to come. He just doesn’t want to do it alone.

He digs through his closet to find some clean clothes. A few pair of underwear go into the bag along with some socks, his second pair of jeans since he’s already wearing the first, and his last two clean shirts. They’re just t-shirts, threadbare old band shirts he picked up at the Goodwill last year, but they’re the best he has.

His bag is barely half full, so he lets himself out of his room and steps across the hall to the bathroom to gather up his soap and toothbrush. Shampoo and toothpaste are the two things he’s willing to spend a little more than the minimum for. Two things he struggled to have when he was younger, things that Naomi never seemed to remember to buy him. Now that he can buy them for himself, he prizes those two items above all others.

Castiel hates being dirty. After all crap Naomi has put him through, his body has been the one thing in his control, and his heart races at the thought of letting himself become dirty. He swallows down his impending panic as tears continue to well in his eyes.

So, he grabs his shampoo and his toothpaste and buries them in the bottom of the bag so no one else can see. So, no one can take them away.

He catches sight of himself in the bathroom mirror and finds himself frozen at the sight. His eyes are red-rimmed and his hair wilder than ever. His cheeks have gone pale and he just looks just as _wrong_ as everything else about this situation.

A soft knock sounds on the front door, Castiel can barely hear from where he’s white knuckling the bathroom counter and staring at his reflection but he does hear, and it serves to snap him out of his panic induced trance.

“Coming!” Castiel calls out and spins toward the door, grabbing his backpack on the way by.

“Castiel, I need you to stay back,” Victor warns as he approaches the door of the apartment but Castiel shoves by him.

“It’s just a friend,” Castiel bites angrily as he throws open the door to reveal Chuck, standing there wringing his hands and shifting from foot to foot uncomfortably.

“Hi,” Chuck manages to say as he pinches a pained smile toward Victor.

“This is Chuck Shurley, my boss,” Castiel waves Chuck in and Victor narrows his eyes at the other man.

“I hear there’s a bit of question for Castiel’s well-being?” Chuck squeaks and Cas wants to melt into the floor.

Victor folds his arms over his chest and stares down his nose at Chuck with an arched brow. “I don’t know what Castiel told you, but we will have a social worker handle the matter.”

Chuck lets out a breath of nervous laughter and shakes his head. “I see, I see. If it would be all the same to your social worker, I would like to offer Castiel a place to stay for the time being,” Chuck says, tone suddenly firming as he narrows his eyes at Victor.

“Hey, I’m standing right here!” Castiel protests and Chuck snaps out of whatever determined trance he found himself in.

“Right, right. Sorry, Castiel. I should have asked. I am a preapproved foster for Charlotte County. It’s been a very long time since…well, doesn’t matter, you don’t need a foster. The law only requires a minor of your age be in a safe and responsible environment to continue your schooling. If you would like to stay with me, Castiel, you are more than welcome,” Chuck says in his rambling way and Castiel’s eyes widen just as much as Victor’s narrow.

“You would do that for me?” Castiel questions, his brow furrowed with doubt while Victor simultaneously exclaims his disbelief.

“You’ll take him in?” Victor gripes, looking down his nose at Chuck.

Chuck gives a nervous smile and lowers his gaze. “Of course. He’s a brilliant and mature young man, I would be glad to have him.”

“I’ll do it. I’ll stay with him,” Castiel blurts before he can over think anything. At least he knows Chuck. Chuck is a good man, and this would only be for a few weeks. He turns his gaze to Victor, nearly ready to beg.

Victor purses his lips and nods. “Fine. Mr. Shurley, expect to hear from the Miami-Dade Child and Family services in the next eight hours. Castiel, I need you to come with me.”

“The hospital, right,” Castiel gulps, the reason for all this upheaval rearing its ugly head once more. He heaves his bag over his shoulder and turns back to Chuck. “Thank you,” He mutters, meeting Chuck’s pale blue eyes with his own.

Castiel has long known there is more to Chuck than the nerdy historian that he paints himself to be, his immediate willingness to help only proves that simple fact.

“No problem,” Chuck mutters, giving Victor one last glare before turning to leave.

Once Chuck is gone, Castiel is careful to lock the apartment doors behind them before following Victor to the sleek black sedan he’s pointed toward.

“You hungry?” Victor questions as Castiel fastens his seat belt.

“No,” Castiel frowns. He might be. He probably should be. But how can he think of eating when he’s going to say goodbye to his mom?

He fights back silent tears as Victor drives and the hours pass slowly, each one it’s very own eternity as they inch closer to Miami.

The harsh lights of the hospital draw Castiel from his stupor. In the last three hours, he’s quietly cycled through numb sadness, anger, fear, and blame. He blames himself; he blames Naomi. He blames whatever sperm donor impregnated her with him and his dead brother. His blame cycles back to anger and by the time he’s standing at the foot of her hospital bed, all Castiel can feel is crushing despair.

He clasps at her hand with his eyes watering and jaw trembling. The machine keeping her alive beeps and pushes air into her lungs through a tube in a loud whoosh that reminds Castiel of just how unnatural all of this is. Her hands are cold and lax in his own and her complexion is grey. Like death already.

“Ah, you must be Mr. Novak,” A gentle voice comes from behind and startles Castiel.

He jumps slightly and spins, releasing his mother’s hand to face the intruder.

“I’m Doctor Cain, I’ve been waiting to speak with you about your mother’s condition,” The doctor in the long white coat steps forward and Castiel rakes his gaze over the older man. His blue eyes are soft and kind, and his cheeks are hidden beneath a scruffy yet well-kept graying beard.

He fits the picture of a calm professional, perfectly fit to deliver the worst of news to devastated family members.

Castiel nods with a frown. “How long?” He says through his closing throat. The beep of the machine keeping Naomi alive drones in the background and Cas hates it.

“She was admitted late yesterday morning, I won’t trouble you with the details just now, but we were able to stabilize her at first, but shortly after she crashed, and we were unable to revive her. She’s been on life support for almost twelve hours. We’ve been waiting for you to decide the next step,” Cain explains slowly and clearly, his eyes only a mockery of warmth.

Castiel wonders how many times he’s had to give a speech like this one. He swallows hard and looks back to his mom. His heart constricts painfully and his eyes sting with salty tears as he stares at her prone form.

Even when she was passed out drunk, she was never this still.

His eyes slide closed and he forces himself to take a deep breath before turning back to the doctor. “What am I supposed to do?” His voice is small, childlike like it hasn’t been since he was a little boy.

He hasn’t felt lost like this in a very long time.

Cain takes a step forward and rests his hand on Castiel’s shoulder. “As her doctor, I can only offer my best prognosis. Given the…circumstances…I feel that the chances of your mom waking up are very very small. In the ways that count, she is already gone.”

Cas huffs and shakes his head. “Circumstances,” He grumbles bitterly. “What was she high on this time? Cocaine? Meth?” Cas shakes his head in disgust and turns toward the window.

“Now son, this isn’t the time to…” Cain starts but Cas cuts him off before he can finish his sentence.

“Time to what? Blame her for being a shit mom? For leaving me to raise myself? You know what, pull the plug. Let her die. I don’t care,” Castiel bites, his tone hardening until his tears dry up. He glares out the window, refusing to look back.

“Castiel,” Cain starts. “You’re angry, I understand. That is a perfectly normal reaction to losing a loved one. How about you take a few hours, get some rest, and we can revisit this topic in the morning,” Cain explains, he doesn’t ask.

Castiel is grateful that the doctor keeps his distance. Victor is waiting outside, ready to whisk him away to wherever the police are going to put him until he can go stay with Chuck, and Castiel just wants to get this over with.

He lets out a deep sigh and shakes his head, pinching the bridge of his nose between his fingers. He’s seventeen. How can be expected to make the decision to let his mom die? This isn’t fair. “Fine,” Cas finally gives in and turns back to the doctor.

He doesn’t wait for the doctor to respond; he pushes by without a backward glance to find Victor.

He needs to get out of here.

That night, Castiel lays on a twin sized bed in a room with two other boys, younger than himself, and stews over the last several hours.

His mother is gone. The only thing keeping her alive is the steady pulse of a machine and the hospital’s good graces.

Tomorrow that will all change.

Cas doesn’t know all that much about hospitals or the medical system, but he does know everything is more expensive than he can afford.

Somehow, he finds comfort in the fact that he doesn’t have a choice but to let her go.

Silent tears leak from his eyes and onto the too flat pillow beneath his head. His heart aches with the pain of loss despite everything Naomi has put him through over the years. He’s not even eighteen, he’s too young to lose his mom. Even if she wasn’t much of a mom to begin with.

Morning doesn’t dawn soon enough, Castiel’s tears dried up hours ago as he lay in the darkness listening to the soft breathing of the other two boys.

He hadn’t bothered asking about them. He doesn’t even remember their names. Honestly, he doesn’t care. Victor dumped him here for the night, somewhere safe he called it. Cas doesn’t care.

The social worker spoke with Chuck not long after Victor dragged Castiel to Miami last night and apparently Chuck is going to come to get him this morning. After.

There are arrangements to be made but Cas doesn’t know the first thing about all that. What do you do with people when they die? His brother is buried somewhere back in Illinois where they were born, but surely Naomi won’t be going back there? That will be a question for the doctor he supposes.

An alarm clock’s blare cuts through the silence and the other two boys groan and stretch groggily. Cas is almost jealous of their ability to sleep.

He would have loved to slip away to spend a few hours with Dean.

He pushes himself from his temporary bed and follows the other two down the stairs and into the kitchen where their foster mom is already cooking breakfast.

“How did you sleep, Castiel?” She questions. Cas thinks she introduced herself as Sarah, but he doesn’t quite remember.

“I didn’t,” he answers with a frown, trying to keep his tone respectful instead of bitter. His situation isn’t her fault, and she has been nothing but kind since Victor rang the doorbell of the nicest house Castiel has ever been in.

“That’s understandable,” she says simply and other two boys glance sideways at Castiel curiously.

Thankfully, they leave it that.

Cas pushes his eggs around on the plate and picks at his bacon long after the other two boys finish their breakfasts and race back up the stairs to get ready for school. “Do you know when Victor is coming to pick me up?” He eventually asks, barely looking up from his plate as Sarah works on cleaning up the mess.

“Nine, he said,” She answers quickly and Cas nods as he searches for a clock.

It’s barely seven now.

He lets out a deep sigh and picks himself up from the table with his plate.

“Not hungry?” Sarah asks as she takes his plate.

Cas frowns and shrugs as she turns to dump the remains of his breakfast in the trash.

“I’m sorry for your loss, Castiel,” Sarah says, surely the first of many to offer him their empty condolences.

Cas nods and wanders into the front room to wait.

The weather outside is grey and the air is misty. As is common for southern Florida, it is difficult to tell where the rain is coming from. Often times, the moisture seems to be raising from the ground at the same time it falls from the sky.

This is fitting, Castiel thinks, as he stares out the window and waits.

Naomi dies only minutes after they disconnect her from the machines and Castiel signs off on her cremation without even reading the paperwork. He’s too young to be doing this, but there is no one else. It’s either this or lose her remains to the system.

The nurses direct him to a foundation to help with her final expenses. He breathes a relieved sigh when they tell him he needn’t worry about the medical expenses. He’s a minor, he can’t be expected to pay.

By the time Chuck comes to collect him, he’s barely capable of dumping himself into the car and fastening the seat belt. His entire body feels numb inside and out. All he can stand to do on the long drive back to Punta Gorda is stare out the window of the car and watch the rivulets of rain drip down the tinted glass.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I find it fitting that the halfway mark in the story also ended up being this chapter and the next. Now that Naomi is gone, Cas has a chance to thrive instead of simply trying to hang on by the skin of his teeth.
> 
> As always, I hope you've enjoyed this chapter and thank you for reading. I absolutely love to hear your thoughts any time you're willing to share them.


	8. Eighteen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Castiel hears some unsettling news from his father and decides that now is the time to take drastic action that will change the course of his and Dean's lives. Meanwhile, Cas is preparing to graduate high school and Chuck tries to convince him that he capable of so much more.

_“Dean?” Cas calls out when he wakes. Dean is nowhere to be seen despite the bright light streaming through the window._

_Since their relationship has morphed into something more than deep friendship, Castiel has loathed sleeping alone but they both know it’s for the best._

_For the last two weeks, they have been inseparable save for when in the presence of Castiel’s parents and Dean’s soft moans of pleasure have seared themselves in Castiel’s brain to the point where he can think of little else._

_But where is Dean now?_

_Cas pushes himself from his bed and finds his clothes. Dean is always here to wake him at first light and his absence is cause for alarm._

_“Master?” A quiet voice that is most certainly not Dean comes from his closed door along with a gentle knock._

_Cas frowns and stares at the door. “Alia?” He questions as he steps across the door and pushes open the door. His gaze rakes over the girl from head to toe and he frowns harder when he sees that she’s holding his usual breakfast tray. “Where’s Dean?”_

_Alia chews on her lip as she stands before Cas. “Master sent him to the market early this morning on an errand,” she says, her tone clearly displaying a sense of unease._

_“Why?” Cas shakes his head and narrows his eyes. His tone hardens more than it should, more than Alia deserves to be subjected to, but he can’t help the coil of dread building in his stomach. His father never interferes with his relationship with Dean._

_“I, I do not know. Sir, please allow me to deliver your breakfast,” Alia begs meekly, nearly trembling as she stands frozen outside of Castiel’s room._

_Cas nods and steps aside, gesturing for her to enter. “Was…did my mother seem displeased?” Castiel prods, reigning in his tone._

_Alia sets the tray down on the low table under the window and turns back to Castiel with her hands folded in front of her and her chin lowered so that her gaze rests at the floor just in front of Castiel’s feet. “No, master,” she mutters, almost too quietly for Castiel to hear._

_“Then why would Dean be sent away?” Castiel ignores her meek tone and continues his questioning. He’s learned through the years that this submissive presentation of Alia’s is little more than a precaution. Portia holds little mercy and playing the part of a weak little thing works to Alia’s advantage._

_Castiel knows that underneath Alia’s nervous façade lies a strong young woman who can easily take much more than she appears._

_She knows full well that she has nothing to fear from Castiel, which makes her demeanor now is even more curious._

_Cas quickly shuts the door to his room, and he can see the way Alia’s shoulders immediately sag. “Talk to me,” He pleads as he slowly approaches her._

_“I think Mistress is setting a trap for the two of you,” Alia whispers immediately, eyes darting up to meet Castiel’s._

_“What? Why?” Castiel’s head rears back in surprise. He knows all too well the things his mother could suspect, but he needs to know what might be going on inside the woman’s head._

_She’ll stop at nothing to convince his father to sell Dean._

_“She knows you share your breakfast with him,” Alia answers, pointing to the heavily laden tray sitting just a few steps away. “But now she suspects something more between you. I overheard her asking Master once again to sell Dean.”_

_Castiel’s heart lodges in his throat. If Alia is correct, then he and Dean might have something serious to fear. “I need to speak to my father.”_

_Alia nods. “That would be wise, Castiel. I have not seen Mistress this determined in a very long while. Tread carefully young Master,” She says sagely, clearly having spent a great deal of time with Lucius to have adopted his mannerisms._

_Castiel nods his agreement. “Is he still home?” he questions, knowing that no one knows the comings and goings of the household better than their slaves. Alia gives her answer in the form of a nod. “Go now, I will walk with my father this morning,” Castiel dismisses her and Alia wastes no time in complying._

_Castiel leaves his room in a hurry, breakfast untouched, in an effort to find his father quickly._

_He finds the man in the garden, preparing to leave for the day._

_“Father!” Castiel calls out to get Felix’s attention._

_“Ah, Castiel,” Felix greets as his mouth pulls into a wide smile._

_“I hoped I may walk with you this morning, father,” Castiel dips his chin respectfully as he scans the area for signs of his mother. Finding none, he lifts his gaze to smile at his father._

_Felix nods. “Perhaps we should send Dean away more often in the mornings if doing so earns me your company,” He says, his tone joking but Castiel can’t help his grimace._

_“I was disappointed to be tended to by Alia this morning, I do wish Dean would not be sent on errands without my knowledge,” Castiel says, tone as chiding as he dares. He is so close to becoming an adult and Dean belongs to him. He should have a say in what happens with Dean._

_Felix sucks in a breath and nods. “Yes, I understand son, but I felt it would be best for Dean to keep him out of your mother’s sight this morning.”_

_Cas frowns. “What is she angry about now?” He looks to his father, barely concealing his annoyance. He has grown weary of her attempts to have Dean tossed aside. Dean has been with Castiel for over a decade now. He isn’t going anywhere. Especially not now._

_“Tell me Castiel,” Felix begins, placing a firm hand on Castiel’s shoulder as they walk. “What are your intentions toward the boy?”_

_Cas swallows hard and stares at the street ahead, mind churning with potential answers. “I do not understand?” Castiel says a question, trying to decipher his father’s meaning before volunteering too much information._

_“Do not play coy with me son,” Felix warns, tightening his grip on Castiel’s shoulder. “Your mother suspects you intend to free Dean once I deem you an adult.”_

_Cas pulls in too much air through his nose, his head swims with it but he can’t bring himself to confirm his father’s suspicion._

_“I thought as much,” Felix’s words are resigned, and he drops his hold on Castiel. “Something must change in our household and it must change now.”_

_“Papa, please,” Castiel blurts, eyes wide as they search his father’s._

_“Tomorrow, I will give your mother my blessing to sell the boy,” Felix says and Castiel’s blood runs cold._

_“No!” Castiel protests, heart seizing in panic._

_“I have already signed his paperwork,” Felix explains, ignoring Castiel’s building anger. “I have left the papers in my tablinum, in the small box atop my desk,” He continues and Castiel’s immediate rage turns into wide-eyed confusion. “Like I said. I will speak to your mother about this matter tomorrow morning. I trust you will do what is right in the meantime.”_

_“Papa…” Castiel starts, prepared to question what his father is saying._

_Felix holds up a hand to silence his son and lets out a deep breath in a sigh. “I hear Rome is beautiful this time of year,” He says wistfully as he stares ahead._

_Castiel feels as if he might throw up. “I…I might very much like to see it…one day,” Cas manages to mutter, swallowing hard around the words._

_Felix turns to give him a fond smile that feels too much like a goodbye. “I am certain you shall, my son. Just remember, nothing in this life comes easily. Sometimes you must make sacrifices for the ones you love.”_

_They continue to walk in silence until they reach the building that houses Castiel’s school and Felix bids him a fond farewell for the day, leaving Cas to mull over what he’s learned._

_Castiel can barely manage to pay attention, his mind already building a plan. His father told him everything he needs to know to get Dean to safety and he doesn’t doubt every word was intentional._

_He just doesn’t understand why all of this is necessary. His father holds all the power in their household. Why doesn’t he stand up to his wife and put an end to her threats to Dean?_

_Bitter anger mounts deep in Castiel’s stomach throughout the day, burning brighter and brighter until little more is left inside him than outraged determination._

_“Dean!” He nearly gasps when he steps out of this school building at the end of the day and sees his friend standing in his usual spot._

_“Cas,” Dean grins, green eyes brightening as Cas steps closer._

_Castiel narrowly avoids leaning in to press his lips to Dean’s. He wants nothing more than to wrap himself around the other boy and hold him tight._

_He hates that he needs to do the exact opposite right now._

_“We should hurry home,” Cas frowns and ducks his chin, refusing to hold Dean’s gaze._

_“Cas, about this morning, I’m sorry I wasn’t there. Alia said you were worried…” Dean starts but Cas waves a dismissive hand._

_“It’s fine,” Cas flinches a smile and Dean falls into step beside him. He wants to tell Dean everything, but he can’t. Not until he has Dean’s papers in his hands. “Alia did fine.”_

_“You didn’t eat,” Dean is quick to point out, tone beginning to show concern as Castiel’s dark mood spreads. “What’s wrong?”_

_Cas takes a deep breath and lets out it slowly. “Just got a lot on my mind,” He excuses, still not meeting Dean’s gaze. “I need some time to myself tonight, can you help Lucius with dinner when we get home?” Cas hates to ask Dean to leave him alone, but he can’t risk his mother’s attention being drawn to Dean more than it already it._

_Dean is slow to answer, and Cas can hear his throat click with a hard swallow. “Are you upset with me?” Dean asks and Castiel wilts._

_“No,” Cas breathes, turning to gather Dean’s hands in his own. “Never, carissime,” Cas is careful to meet Dean’s eyes and he infuses his gaze with as much love and devotion he can muster. “There are some things I must attend to, and it would be safest for you to stay away for now,” Castiel explains, hoping Dean doesn’t ask him for more._

_“Your mother again,” Dean assumes and Castiel nods. Essentially, Dean is right and there is no need to elaborate. Dean knows all too well the problems she poses._

_“Promise me you’ll do your best to stay out of sight tonight,” Cas pleads as he stares into the deepest parts of Dean’s soul. He swallows hard, the unease that has been plaguing him all day doubles now that Dean is right here, warm and solid and in danger of being lost to him forever._

_“I’m yours to command, Cas,” Dean says with a smile that doesn’t come close to touching on bitter. His words transcend his servitude and speak directly to their bond as friends and lovers._

_Cas no longer cares that they’re in public, anyone could see, he tugs Dean around a corner into a smaller ally and pulls him close into a heated kiss. Dean hums and melts in his arms, a smile playing at his lips as Cas pours everything he has into the way their lips move together and their bodies touch._

_“I love you, Dean,” Cas whispers as he pulls back, and Dean’s dazed smile makes his heart clench in the most delicious of ways. His hand is still fisted in Dean’s tunic and he forces his grip to relax as he takes a step back._

_“What was that for?” Dean’s smile turns into a satisfied grin. “Not that I’m complaining…”_

_The wary look in Dean’s eye is enough to show that he understands Castiel is worried, but he isn’t going to call him out. Cas is grateful for Dean’s trust, but he feels as if keeping what he knows from Dean is a betrayal of sorts._

_He just doesn’t want to worry Dean unnecessarily._

_“Do I need a reason?” Castiel mutters, simultaneously drawing his fingers lightly across the sharp cut of Dean’s jaw._

_Dean’s smile shifts, doubt creeping in, but he nods nonetheless, and Cas is certain he’s never loved Dean more than he does right now._

_Cas takes a shuddering breath and twines their fingers together before drawing Dean’s hand up to press a chaste kiss to his knuckles._

_Dean lets out a nervous laugh and pulls his hand away with a shake of his head. “What’s gotten into you?” Dean questions as his head tilts slightly. The wariness in his gaze has grown and Cas can see Dean war within himself over the decision to ask Cas what’s on his mind._

_But Dean trusts him, and Cas knows he won’t ask._

_He only hopes his plan is enough to get them to Rome before nightfall tomorrow._

\---

Cas wakes with a knot in his stomach, the heavy beat of horse’s hooves still loud in his ears. He and Dean did it. They snuck out and escaped Herculaneum. He swears his feet ache even now from their long hike into Napoli where he purchased the use of horses to carry them into Rome.

The man at the stable hadn’t wanted to sell one for Dean. He had balked at the idea of a slave mounting one of his horses, but a stern complaint from Castiel had put an end to his protests. How could the man expect Castiel to get anywhere quickly if his slave only has his own feet to carry him?

He lays there for a moment watching the dust float through the beams of sunlight striking through the curtains of Chuck’s guest room.

Waking up here has been strange, but the older man has been welcoming and patient with Cas over the last two weeks.

His chest still aches with the empty spot Naomi had never quite managed to fill, but he’s been good at ignoring that hollow part of himself for years now. He sees no reason to change that now.

He finds talking about his dreams helps and somehow Chuck is more than interested in hearing about them.

Chuck believes that Castiel’s dreams are a past life and everything is real. He even thinks that a modern version of Dean is out there somewhere, and they’re destined to meet.

Cas had laughed when Chuck told him that, but he can’t help but hope that Chuck is right.

There is no school today. An “in-service” day the district is calling it, but that only means that Cas is going to work with Chuck all day instead of just after school.

Cas isn’t going to complain. His work with Chuck is fascinating. The older man has been encouraging Cas to apply to colleges, but Cas has no idea how he could even begin to pay for that.

Still, Cas can’t help but wonder about the possibilities as he drags himself from bed and pulls on the first clothes his hands find.

Downstairs, he sleepily pours himself a bowl of cereal while Chuck starts his morning coffee. Cas has never seen someone so dependent on the dark and bitter liquid. At first, Cas had been alarmed but he quickly learned to not question Chuck’s habits.

In fact, Cas is beginning to wonder if maybe he should take advantage of Chuck’s daily offer of a cup. Maybe the extra caffeine would help keep him awake during the morning at school.

Lately, Cas has been exhausted from either not sleeping and missing Dean or sleeping and feeling like he’s been awake all night with Dean.

Everything circles back to Dean.

Cas sighs and shakes his head at the thought just as Chuck turns to him, waving the coffee pot tauntingly. “Please,” Cas says, finally deciding to give in and Chuck’s eyes widen with surprise.

“Oh, wow, really?” Chuck stammers, looking somewhat spooked.

Cas learned early on that Chuck’s nervous mannerisms have nothing to do with his outlandish coffee consumption.

Cas nods sleepily. “If you don’t mind.” Cas has forced himself to stop thanking Chuck for giving him a place to stay after about the hundredth time when Chuck had slammed a file down on his desk and glared a glare to end all glares.

Instead, Cas has taken to thanking him by being sure to take over most of the housework, Chuck is a terrible housekeeper, and putting in extra time in Chuck’s office at the college.

Chuck nods absently as he pours Castiel a mug and sets the steaming cup in front of Castiel on the table. “Anything new in your dreams?” Chuck asks as he settles in front of Cas with his mug held just below his nose so he can inhale the caffeine fumes in between sips.

Cas ducks his chin with a shy smile before he nods. “Yeah, me and Dean ran away,” Cas drops the bombshell just to watch Chuck’s eyes widen.

“You didn’t!” Chuck exclaims, leaning forward in his seat as if hanging off Castiel’s every word.

Cas smiles wider. “We did. Felix told me that he was going to give Portia permission to sell Dean, but he also told me he already signed Dean’s paperwork and told me exactly where it was. It was like he was telling me to take Dean and run. So, I did,” Cas says with a shrug like all of this is completely normal and not even a little bit strange.

Chuck laughs softly with delight, putting his mug down long enough to clap his hands together. “Excellent. Where did you go?”

Cas takes another deep breath. “We walked to Napoli, then got horses to make the trip to Rome. We weren’t there yet when I woke up.”

“Incredible,” Chuck exclaims as he scoops his coffee mug back up and takes a long sip. “What will you do once you get to Rome?”

Cas frowns as he considers. “I…I don’t know,” He admits, not for the first time wondering why his dreams only seem to be in the moment. He has no inkling as to the future. “I don’t ever see plans for the future, it’s always very…right now.”

Chuck mirrors his frown and leans back in his chair. “Interesting. One more question though, about Dean,” Chuck says and waits for Cas to give him the go-ahead.

Cas nods for Chuck to continue with a sinking feeling in his stomach.

“Do you love him?” Chuck asks simply and for the first time in his life, Cas almost feels like he has a parent asking him about his first crush.

“I, uh, I mean…” Cas falters, grasping for and failing to find the right words.

Chuck gives him a fond smile and shakes his head slowly. “It’s okay if you do, Castiel. I think Dean is very real and you clearly care for him a great deal…”

Cas sucks in a strained breath, trying to take Chuck’s words to heart but he just can’t quite believe Chuck could be so accepting. The fact that he hasn’t called Cas crazy about the dreams, to begin with, is enough cause for confusion, but to believe Chuck would accept that he not only loves a man but the man who only exists in his dreams? Cas can’t quite buy into that.

“You think he’s real?” Cas decides to zero in on that statement to avoid the larger question. Chuck has never struck him as homophobic, but Cas really doesn’t want to find out.

And Cas can’t help but feel a little bit crazy for being more interested in a man who lives in his dreams than anyone right in front of him.

Especially since he and Dean haven’t exactly been chaste in his dreams since their first kiss.

Chuck eyes Castiel for a moment as if weighing his words carefully. “I believe sometimes destiny gives us a hand when we need a little help.”

Cas scoffs and shakes his head. “So, what? My life has been so shitty that a cosmic entity took pity on me?”

Chuck frowns and shakes his head. “Maybe,” Chuck scowls. “Or maybe it isn’t only about you,” Chuck firms his tone and points. “Think about your dreams Castiel. From what you’ve told me, Dean has a pretty difficult life outside of you. Right? So maybe your life now is to balance that out before fate brings the two of you together.” Chuck finishes with a smug look and Castiel scowls.

“No. What I’ve gone through is nothing compared to Dean,” Cas shakes his head, unwilling to compare his lack of a decent mother to having no control over his life, being beaten at every turn, starved when his mistress has the whim and generally being forced living in fear of being sold at any moment.

No, what Castiel has been through is nothing compared to that.

Chuck shrugs as if Castiel’s opinion doesn’t matter. “Either way, I think your path and Dean’s will bring you together someday. He’ll be looking for you too.”

Castiel’s heart flutters wildly at Chuck's words and he feels forced to close his eyes to collect himself. “You…you really think Dean is not only real, but knows about me too?” Cas struggles to keep his voice even as butterflies tap dance in his stomach.

Chuck nods serenely with a small quirk of his lips over the rim of his coffee cup. “I’m certain of it. The only question is, what are you going to do to put yourself in Dean’s path? Stay here and wait?”

Chuck’s tone has Castiel swallowing hard before shaking his head vehemently. He can’t stay here and hope that somehow Dean is drawn to nowhere, Florida. Cas doesn’t know where he needs to be, but he knows that here isn’t the place. “What should I do?” He asks timidly, the beginnings of an idea forming in his mind, but he isn’t brave enough to say it out loud.

Chuck leans forward and rests his elbows on the table to meet Castiel’s gaze with firm surety. “Start with college,” He says, and Cas immediately groans and falls back in his chair. “No, listen,” Chuck holds up a single finger to silence Castiel’s protests. “You are highly intelligent, Castiel. Despite your…upbringing…you have still managed to outperform most of your peers academically and working at the college for that past year would look excellent on a college application. Pick an area of interest, apply for scholarships. You CAN do this, Castiel.”

Cas closes his eyes to mull over Chuck’s words. He’s never thought about college. Never thought that would be in the cards for him. Simply getting through high school has been a battle of wills and he’s so close to being done. Adding another four years? He groans and drops his head back to blink up at the ceiling.

“You think it will help me find Dean?” Cas eventually mumbles, still staring upward.

Chuck sighs and Cas can hear the unspoken words almost as clearly as if Chuck had said them aloud. “I do.”

Cas drops his chin to meet Chuck’s gaze, knowing without words that Chuck is only focusing on Dean as a means to convince him to continue his education.

Chuck has been nudging him toward college since Cas started working for him, well before he knew anything of Dean.

“Fine. I’ll do it,” Cas eventually breathes and Chuck’s eyes light with warmth and Cas frowns, mind churning with the overwhelming details he will need to decide. His senior year is all but over. He’s behind schedule for college applications and he knows it. Is he too far behind? “Will you help me with applications?”

“Of course,” Chuck is quick to answer.

Now, Cas only needs to decide a major and where he wants to go.

\---

Castiel turns eighteen a week later with barely an application filled out. The deadlines listed by the various colleges have a painful knot tightening in his gut. There is no way he’ll be able to start in the fall.

He shakes his head as he tosses another pamphlet aside. History. He wants to study history. Specifically, Ancient Roman History.

He’s nowhere near smart enough for Harvard or Yale. Or rich enough for that matter, but that is only secondary he supposes. Those two are supposed to be the best for history but Cas can’t imagine himself somewhere like that.

He snorts to himself as he considers it.

Yeah, poor white trash who dealt drugs through half of high school.

They’d want him alright...

He has fond memories of Chicago, but he can’t pretend that the thought of going back there isn’t terrifying.

No, he wants somewhere more local.

Somewhere he can get in-state tuition.

The University of Florida maybe?

Gainesville isn’t that far, and he’s sure he would qualify for scholarships if he can get in.

Except, the deadline was in November. Almost eight months ago.

Cas growls to himself and tugs at his hair as he stares at the computer screen.

“Castiel?” Chuck peeks around the corner from his desk.

“I missed all the deadlines!” Cas grumbles. “I’m not going to get in anywhere!”

Chuck sighs and shakes his head. “Have you looked at transfers?”

Cas’ eyes widen as he stares at his mentor uncomprehending.

Chuck sighs again and pushes up from his desk. “Have you looked at the possibility of transferring in two years?” He explains slowly. “Maybe start here, complete some core requirements at a cheaper price and then transfer for your junior and senior years,” Chuck explain as he gestures around his office.

Cas’ brow furrows as he considers and then turns his attention back to the computer. “I could do something like that?” His mind is already churning with possibilities as he clicks the link for transfer requirements.

“It’s what I did,” Chuck says with a shrug. He comes to stand behind Castiel, looking over his shoulder at the screen. “The history program here is quite good, I would know,” Chuck arches a brow, reminding Castiel that he is the head of the history department at this modest little college. “Take some Latin too and you’d be golden.”

Cas turns a squinty glare on the other man. “I already know Latin.”

“I know that, but it needs to be shown on paper for anyone to believe you,” Chuck reminds with a roll of his eyes.

Cas groans and buries his face in his hands. He really doesn’t want to sit through language classes when he already knows the language. His dreams have taught him so much, and the discovery that he knows Latin came as quite the shock to both he and Chuck.

Cas hadn’t even realized what he was doing a few weeks ago when he started reading an ancient section of graffiti out loud to his shocked mentor. At least not until Chuck told him to look closer at what he was reading.

“I’m sure you’ll be able to test out of the introductory courses, but if you’re going to do this, I think it would help to take those classes,” Chuck explains, slipping easily into professor mode.

Cas nods as he sucks in a deep breath through his nose. “Fine. Let’s do this.”

Chuck grins and claps Cas on the shoulder. “I’m proud of you, Castiel,” He murmurs and Castiel’s heart flips in his chest.

“I haven’t done anything,” Cas argues, shaking his head.

Chuck claps his shoulder twice more before he turns away without a word.

Cas doesn’t need to see Chuck’s expression to sense his disagreement.

That’s alright though. Cas knows just how little he’s done, how much of a screw up he’s always been. He can do this though.

He WILL do this if it means increasing his chances of finding Dean.

He spends the rest of his workday imagining what his dreams might hold tonight.

He and Dean had escaped to Rome a week ago but have been hiding from the men his mother surely sent to capture Dean. He refuses to believe that his father sent anyone after them when he’s the one who told Cas to run away in the first place.

These hunters must be his mother’s doing.

No matter though. Today is his birthday and if he doesn’t go before the council to free Dean, then Cas is going to find a way to kick his own ass across the nearly two thousand years that separate the two versions of himself.

Chuck lets him go early, claiming the extra time off is a birthday gift, and Cas makes directly for the docks to find Rufus.

“Rufus!” Cas calls with a grin as soon as he sees the older man in his usual place at the end of the pier.

“What’d’ya want?” Rufus grumbles with a flicker of humor in his tired gaze.

“I’m going to college,” Cas mutters on an exhale. His pulse skitters with his terrified excitement. A feeling of accomplishment is beginning to set in with his high school graduation looming closer.

Rufus cracks a rare smile. “Good,” He says simply, gesturing for Castiel to take up a pole.

Cas dips his hand into the shrimp bucket and easily baits his hook, years of practice making the task almost automatic. His cast lands alongside Rufus’ line and he scowls at the distance. He can do better, he knows.

“Where?” Rufus questions once Castiel is settled next to him.

“I’m going to start here since I missed the application deadlines,” Cas starts to explain, thoughts drifting unbidden to his mother. A dark cloud begins to settle over him, guilt for moving on so easily, anger for knowing that if she hadn’t overdosed, Castiel would have been stuck waiting for her for years to come. He wouldn’t have had the strength to move on and live his own life.

He clears his throat, realizing how far he’s drifted, and glances over to see Rufus’ arched brow as the older man waits for him to continue.

“I, uh, I’m going to work on the prerequisites and then transfer somewhere. I’m thinking the University of Florida, but I’ve got time to decide,” Cas explains, the plan sounding more and more doable the more times he thinks it over.

Rufus nods without saying a word, but the pleased look in his eye tells Cas enough.

Rufus isn’t one to dole out kindhearted compliments and that's fine by Castiel.

“That means I’m gonna have to put up with your sorry ass for two more years?” Rufus finally grumbles, having found something to pretend to complain about.

Cas barely holds back his laugh as he shakes his head. “Looks like it. I would say I’m sorry but...”

“Damn kids,” Rufus gripes, staring out at the water.

They sit in silence a while longer, the only sound being the lapping of the waves and the screeching cries of the gulls circling them, waiting for an easy meal.

Cas perks up when he feels his line twitch and he silently gets to his feet, slipping into the mode of a stealthy predator as he squares his shoulders and prepares for a fight.

The line twitches a few more times, barely a pulse against his finger as he stares at the water’s surface with narrowed eyes. His heart races and slows at the same time, and he barely remembers to breathe as he waits for the fish to hit.

Finally, the tip of his pole dips and Cas jerks his line with well-practiced ease.

His line sings as it’s pulled from his reel, the fish on the other end rushing to escape.

Cas stops his line and widens his stance as he pulls back, feeling the force of his prey. When he dips down, he reels in quickly, picking up the slack in the line.

“Got a fighter,” Rufus observes, watching the still placid surface of the water.

“A strong one,” Cas breathes with a grin as he continues to slowly coax the fish closer.

A half-hour passes of Cas reeling in only to have the fish pull out again. The goal here is to exhaust the fish, not bring the creature in with sheer force.

If Cas simply winds his line to bring the fish in quickly, the fish will fight back and snap his line. Maybe even his pole.

No, this is yet another battle of wills. One Cas is confident he can win.

Finally, the surface of the water breaks, revealing the largest skipjack Castiel has ever seen, let alone managed to hook.

“Damn boy, that’uns gotta be fifty pounds,” Rufus leans over the railing to look at the tiring silver toned fish.

“Feels like it,” Cas grunts. His arms burn from the constant battle, but he’s energized with adrenaline.

After another few minutes that pass in what feels like a blink of an eye, the large tuna gives out, the fight drained from its exhausted body and Cas can walk it down the pier without much resistance.

He almost feels bad when he drags the monstrous fish from the water and sets to cleaning it.

“Proud of you, kid,” Rufus compliments as Cas bundles the last of the meat into Rufus’ cooler. The older fisherman claps Cas on the shoulder and Castiel feels his chest swell, fit to burst with the weight of Rufus’ compliment.

He’s come so far from that gangly, half-starved boy that Rufus took under his wing so many years ago.

“Thank you, Rufus. For everything,” Cas turns to the man with the beginning of tears prickling in his eyes. He owes Rufus so much. Cas shakes his head when Rufus opens his mouth to protest. “I would have been lost without you,” Cas says, frowning at his own words.

How can he possibly thank Rufus for seeing enough value in him to teach him how to fish? How can he possibly put into words how his spare words, his gruff demeanor, and constant presence helped to ground Cas when his world was flying apart at the seams? How can he measure out the right amount of value to place on the influence Rufus has had on him through the years?

“Ain’t nothin,” Rufus dismisses a wave of his hand. If the skin of his face weren’t already so dark, Cas is sure he’d be able to see the man blush.

Rufus saved his life. Cas knows. If he hadn’t when he taught Cas how to feed himself, or when he demanded Cas keep up with his studies, or maybe it was when he demanded Cas get out from under Uriel’s thumb and find a real job.

“I, uh...here,” Rufus rubs the back of his neck before reaching down to pull a slender box from his tackle bag and extending it to Castiel.

Cas tilts his head curiously but takes the box, running his fingers over the smooth surface.

“Happy Birthday, I guess. Eighteen, right?” Rufus grumbles and Cas flushes crimson.

“You remembered?” Cas manages to mutter as he peels back the lid of the nearly foot-long box. He sets the lid aside and stares down at the contents, heart lodged in his throat as he bites back a laugh. He reaches inside to gently lift the slim blue tie from the box with a smirk of a laugh on his lips.

“Every man needs a tie,” Rufus explains, looking down bashfully.

“I love it,” Cas manages to get out, fighting back unwelcome years. Other than the two birthdays his mother was sober for, this is the first present he’s been given since he turned six.

He still has that little bumblebee backpack somewhere.

“Thank you,” Cas says quickly before his throat tightens and moisture seeps from the corners of his eyes. He fights down his emotions, knowing full well that Rufus doesn’t _do_ emotional displays. He forces a laugh and he can see Rufus’ shoulders relax immediately.

“Now go on and git outta here before your fish does bad,” Rufus grumbles, refusing to acknowledge their moment as he bodily turns Cas around and shoves him toward the bag sitting on the pier next to the Rufus’ cooler. “That professor of yours better like jack.”

“I think he likes fish,” Cas shrugs as he tucks this new tie into his backpack and slings the bag over his shoulder. The grocery bag of fish gets held in his free hand and he gives Rufus a nod of thanks. “See ya around old man,” Cas quips with a backward wave and he smiles at the good-natured grumble he hears in response.

It turns out, Chuck loves fish and doesn’t stop singing the praises of Castiel’s cooking until Cas excuses himself to bed with hopes of seeing Dean in his dreams.

\---

_“Castiel, son of Felix, you wish to free this...Dean?” The assembly representative looks up from the parchment and glares at Castiel._

_“Yes, sir. Dean has served me well since he was purchased and has earned his freedom,” Castiel answers with a racing heart. He’s here. He’s finally here. He had left his bulla in his room at his parent’s home and taken on the responsibilities of manhood. He is a man in the eyes of the empire regardless of what his father might say._

_“Hmmm,” The councilman hums and passes the parchment outlining Castiel’s ownership of Dean to the next man._

_The other three men read over the careful script that details Dean’s purchase twelve years ago as well as the transfer of ownership from Felix to Castiel when Cas reaches adulthood._

_Which is indisputable now._

_“I see no reason to deny this request,” The fourth and final man declares and the other three nod their agreement._

_They each add their signatures, granting Dean his freedom by declaring him a free citizen of Rome, before rolling the parchment and adding the seal of the Assembly to hold the document closed._

_Cas did it._

_He takes the parchment back with trembling hands as he struggles to tamp down on his wide smile._

_Dean is free._

_Cas was finally able to fulfill his promise from childhood._

_Now Dean is free to do as he pleases. Free to leave him if he wishes._

_Castiel swallows hard around that thought as he tucks the freshly-inked parchment into the folds of his toga._

_Dean could leave him, and Cas would do nothing to stop him._

_“The council has my deepest thanks,” Castiel says with a bow of his head before he turns away and strides from the chamber._

_The forum is busy today and only Castiel’s status granted him an audience with the council on such short notice. The line of those waiting to be heard by them stretches from the Curia to the Temple of Romulus. Castiel is glad to have been able to bypass most of the queue._

_“Castiel,” A soft voice sounds and Castiel nearly misses the sound of his name._

_Castiel pauses, the fine hairs on the back of his neck rising with caution as he turns to face the man who had called his name. Before him stands a tall and slim man wearing the violet trimmed toga of a senator. Cas’ narrows his eyes and watches the man approach, but he doesn’t dare turn away no matter how much he would prefer to hurry home to Dean._

_“I am correct? Your name is Castiel?” The man asks with a serious expression. Now that he’s standing directly in front of Cas, he can see the man’s eyes are a very pale blue, nearly grey. His wispy brown hair is slightly too long and sweeps to one side across his brow. His expression imitates openness, but the fine lines around his eyes and tight press of his lips betray his caution._

_Castiel nods, waiting for the man to make his intentions known._

_“Would you do me the kindness of walking with me?” The man asks and Cas feels himself growing impatient._

_“I am new to the city, therefore ignorant of many of her customs, but where I am from it is polite to introduce oneself,” Castiel can’t help but say, doing his best to keep his tone polite as he meets this stranger’s gaze._

_The man smiles and looks down, suddenly looking shy and boyish. “Forgive me, I seem to have forgotten my manners. My name is Inias, Senator of Rome,” He introduces dipping his chin to Castiel in modesty before lifting his gaze once more._

_“I am pleased to meet you, Senator,” Castiel responds, infusing his tone with as much respect and as little impatience as he can muster. “How may I be of service?”_

_Inias offers Cas a small smile and gestures with his arm for him to follow the path to the house of the Vestal Virgins. “I hear you have traveled to Roma from Ercolano, is that correct?”_

_Cas sucks in a breath but dips his chin. “That is,” He answers simply, still holding himself with caution._

_“I also hear that you are well educated and come from a noble family,” Inias states more than asks. Cas can’t help but wonder where this information originated. “Tell me, Castiel, what are your aspirations for your time in Rome?”_

_Cas freezes mid-step, gaze raking over their surroundings. People busily pass them, barely sparing a glance to the two men standing outside the Temple of Vesta on this bright, sun-filled, day. “I wish to earn a place among the Senate,” Castiel says bravely, not knowing any other path than the one his parents set him on._

_“How fortuitous. I am presently in need of an Orator to deliver news from the Senate to the people,” Inias explains as he slowly guides Castiel down the Via Sacra with a hand on his shoulder. “You have caught my attention, Castiel. The Senate needs more righteous men to guide our glorious empire, men like yourself.”_

_“You flatter me, Senator,” Castiel says dismissively._

_“Inias, please,” Inias insists and Castiel lets out a heavy breath through his nose._

_“Inias,” Cas says firmly. “I do not consider myself to be righteous. I only do the best I can with what I am gifted by the gods,” Castiel chooses his words carefully, sensing this conversation is more of an interview than a social call. His heart rate increases at the possibilities. He needs to find work soon, the meager sum he stole from his father’s purse will not hold him and Dean for much longer._

_“Good men rarely consider themselves to be such,” Inias dismisses with a wave of his hand. “I must admit, and forgive me if this seems improper, I like you, Castiel. I like what I have heard about you. Would you be willing to submit yourself to the Senate to be interviewed in two days?”_

_Castiel’s eyes widen, barely believing the words drifting to his ears. This is an offer for an interview to a job that he is not only qualified for through his schooling, but one that holds a level of prestige that his family would be proud of. He gives a firm nod, barely containing his excitement. “I would,” He says, retaining as much calm dignity as he can muster._

_Inias breaks into a wide smile. “I am glad to hear that, Castiel. I look forward to seeing your skills in action.”_

_Both men pause and Castiel looks up at the Rostrum that towers above the main road. Upon it stands a man delivering the news of the day in a booming voice with dozens of people gathered around. He is calm, confident, and bold but something in the man’s stance has Castiel’s blood heating with distrust. “Who is he?” Castiel questions softly, trying to hide his unease._

_A dark cloud passes over Inias’ features, so fleeting that Castiel nearly misses the flicker of disdain before it disappears. “That is Orator Bernardo. He has been vying for an opportunity to speak for the Senate for several years. Do not forget, Castiel, there is a reason he still wishes for the position instead of holding it,” Inias says with a light hold on Castiel’s shoulder. The touch is meant to be friendly but Castiel feels on edge about this entire situation._

_He feels no choice but to nod and continue watching the man’s speech. He wants to know how this Senator seemingly knows so much about him, but he is hesitant to question his good fortune. He had not expected to have a chance at securing a position with the Senate for several years still. Inias seeking him out may very well be a blessing._

_“I feel I have taken enough of your time, Castiel. I look forward to seeing you again in two days, would you please arrive at the vestibule of the Curia two hours past dawn?” Inias breaks the quiet between them and Castiel nods his agreement immediately._

_“I would not dream of being late. I thank you deeply for this opportunity, Senator,” Castiel says, turning slightly toward the other man as he dips his chin respectfully._

_“Please, Castiel. Remember to call me by my given name,” Inias quirks a smile, clearly amused by Castiel’s deference but unwilling to allow it to continue. “I feel I have monopolized enough of your time; I understand you have someone waiting for you.”_

_“How do you know so much about me?” Castiel blurts, nearly biting his tongue in the process._

_Inias gives him a knowing smile. “A man in my position cannot afford to go…uninformed,” He says cryptically with a shy smile that has a dozen questions flitting through Castiel’s mind. “I do hope that we may become friends, Castiel. I believe we have much in common.” With those final words, Inias turns and strides away through the crowd, leaving Castiel in his wake._

_Cas stares after the man for a moment, confusion warring with intrigue for dominance in his thoughts. He shoves his doubts aside for the time being. He has an audience with the Senate and Dean is free! How could he have forgotten about Dean?!_

_He turns quickly and cuts through the meandering streets as quickly as he can find his way. Dean is waiting for him and he needs to hold his lover in his arms more than he needs to breathe right now._

_He arrives at their small apartment in short order and he pushes through the door quietly. “Dean,” He says softly as he draws the man close._

_Dean has been worrying, that much is clear to Castiel. His sandy brown hair is tousled from being abused by his fingers tugging and pulling nervously and his vivid green eyes are wide and glassy._

_Dean knew exactly where Cas was going this afternoon and why. Of the two of them, Dean has far more cause for concern than Castiel, but Cas can’t help but feel a swell of joy when Dean’s eyes widen further at the press of the rolled parchment into his calloused hands._

_“Is this?” Dean asks, his voice light and airy. Cas watches the column of Dean’s throat flex and contracts when his love swallows hard against the last of his lingering doubt._

_Dean knows, Castiel can see the moment that the idea of freedom becomes something Dean can reach out and touch. Tears fill their eyes as they weep and laugh and cling to one another for what feels like hours until they eventually find their way to becoming tangled in the covers of the bed they share._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter ended up being far longer than I had anticipated, but I have no regrets. As always, I would love to hear your thoughts.


	9. Nineteen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cas faces decisions about his future in both real life and his dreams.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've been impatiently waiting for both them to be over 18 and they finally are! Be warned. Smut may now ensue at any moment and this chapter gets pretty...well, let's just say, sticky.

Cas takes a deep breath as his trembling fingers hold the letter from the University of Florida. Somewhere over the last year and a half year, Chuck’s home has become his as well, but his mentor’s last class doesn’t end for another twenty minutes. 

Cas doesn’t expect him home for at least another hour and Cas isn't certain he wants to face this alone.

Cas drops the letter onto the countertop and takes a step back, still staring at the unassuming envelope like it might attack at any moment.

College over the last year has been everything Chuck promised. Some of the work was difficult, and Castiel had to learn how to study, but he’s gotten near-perfect marks in most of his classes, all while still working with Chuck and helping with research.

He and Dean are safe and comfortable in Rome. Vesuvius can’t touch them there.

For the first time in his life, Castiel feels secure and in control.

All except for the letter sitting on the countertop.

He doesn’t want to lose his carefully won stability to the results of the application he submitted in October. The letter seems to glare at him from the space it occupies on the counter. It beckons for him to open it while his anxieties have him frozen in place.

He wants to open it now, but he also wants to wait for Chuck. Maybe he should take it to Rufus? He doesn’t want to do this alone, and yet he’s terrified for anyone else to see.

Cas forces himself to turn away from the kitchen and meander to the couch in the living room where he plops down with his feet propped up on the coffee table. He grabs for the remote and flicks on the TV but his thoughts still circle on that potentially life-altering piece of mail in the kitchen. He flips through several channels distractedly before hitting the Netflix button and mindlessly flipping through that.

Netflix has little to offer to distract him from the siren call of the letter from the University. His knee jiggles as he looks toward the kitchen and chews his lip. His pulse races in a mocking rhythm. Of everything he’s been through, a piece of paper has him terrified.

He huffs to himself and closes his eyes at the thought. How sad is that?

“I should open it,” He mutters to himself, still staring and not moving.

He shakes his head, internally berating himself for his cowardice.

Paper. He’s terrified of a piece of paper right now.

A deep sigh escapes and Cas rolls his eyes. It isn’t the paper, it’s what the paper might say. “Come on. You’re better than this,” He grumbles and heaves himself from the couch with the television still displaying the forgotten Netflix menu.

As he eyes the envelope warily, he swears the letter has gotten more intimidating in the last five minutes.

His eyes slide closed as he grasps the thick bundle and slips his finger under the seal. He forgets to breathe as the paper tears and his fingers pull out the contents without input from his mind.

His body runs on autopilot as his eyes scan the first page of the letter.

The ACCEPTANCE letter.

Cas grins and lets out a happy squeal that, thankfully, no one is around to hear. “I did it,” He says on a laugh as he reads and rereads the entire contents of the envelope. He chews his lip as he grins, unable to contain the happy smile that nearly has his bouncing with excitement.

He did it. Him. With everything in his life stacked against him, he still did this. His chest swells with a rarely felt emotion that he belated realizes must be pride. He covers his mouth with his hand to try to control the self-satisfied grin that has plastered itself on his face but he knows that won’t help. He’s too damn happy to stop smiling.

He is to start studying Ancient History at the University of Florida in the fall. A laugh bubbles up in his chest at the thought. Him. Going to University. Imagine that!

He lets himself bask in his excitement as he wanders to his bedroom. He knows what he needs to do next. He’ll need to respond to the acceptance letter to secure his place and then he’ll need to apply for the dreaded financial aid and then find somewhere to live.

Suddenly, his excitement seems to dim in the face of the next steps he’ll need to take.

So far, he’s been able to pay his tuition with scholarship and hard work, but that isn’t going to be enough anymore. He already knows University is going to be so much more expensive. Thankfully, Chuck hasn’t minded him putting in some extra hours and encourage Cas to keep living with him.

He forces himself to take a steadying breath.

He can do this.

One step at a time.

He’s been preparing for this over the last year and a half. He has a few thousand in the bank account Chuck had encouraged him to set up that should be enough to at least get him started. He’ll need to apply for scholarships of course, but Chuck has assured him that his situation will qualify him for several grants and private fund scholarships reserved for students like him.

Cas swallows down his impending panic.

He has a plan and Chuck hasn’t steered him wrong yet.

Chuck has been infinitely patient with him as he struggled to adjust to living beyond the basic goal of survival and with his attempt to learn how to fit in with the popular culture. Cas says ‘attempt’ because while he has been trying, he has also been failing miserably. He had never bothered with any of that before and catching up now is just so much work. Keeping up with current movies has always paled in comparison to keeping a roof over his head and his stomach full.

He sets the letters aside after reading through them for at least the tenth time. Chuck will be home shortly and it’s Cas’ turn to cook dinner.

He might as well get started.

They both have early classes in the morning, so Cas opts for something simple. Spaghetti. The sausage doesn’t take long to brown, the delicious aroma filling the small kitchen as Cas hums to the music in his head.

If his hips sway and feet shuffle a little, well...he’s the only one around to see himself.

Once the sausage is cooked, he adds a jar of marinara to the pot and some seasoning to spice it up. He still gets a little bit of a thrill when he opens a cupboard to find it full of possibilities instead of nearly bare and he finds himself smiling like a fool as he works.

He doesn’t care how silly he might look to someone else. He’s allowed to be happy.

He lets his mind drift to Dean as he lets the sauce simmer and absently cleans up the mess he’s made so far. Dean has taken to freedom better than a duck to water and something warms deep in Castiel’s chest every time he thinks about how far Dean has come in the last year.

How far they’ve both come really.

Cas has been working as an Orator for the Senate, voicing the news loudly from the Rostrum outside the Curia where the Senate meets. He’s been working hard to earn the position of lead Orator, much to Bernardo’s disdain but there is nothing the man can do since Inias has become Cas’ friend and champion.

Bernardo doesn’t dare move against him when he’s favored by well over half the Senate.

Last night, Cas had woken to Dean’s body covering his, their covers discarded on the floor. The warm spring breeze caused their curtains to billow and the candles to flicker, but Cas was far too enraptured by Dean’s attention to care. His plush lips traveled down Castiel’s body, nipping and sucking marks onto his skin as Cas shivered and whispered breathy words of encouragement.

Dean had spent countless minutes worshiping Castiel’s body until Cas could barely form a coherent thought. Only then did Dean fix him with Cas’ favorite roguish smile as his fingers dipped below Cas’ balls to stretch him open.

If Castiel had thought he loved being inside of Dean, then allowing Dean to be inside him was a revelation.

Afterward, they had laid together with Dean’s front to Castiel’s back, spent and sweaty, as Dean traced absent circles on Castiel’s chest. Cas could feel the mess threatening to leak from his body, but Dean’s softening cock was still blocking the way and he ached in the best of ways.

Cas could have laid there with Dean forever, feeling completely owned and cherished in his lover’s arms.

He shakes his head and blows his lips in a raspberry to pull himself away from those memories. Having a semi while trying to cook dinner would not be a good thing for Chuck to walk in on.

Maybe, if he’s lucky, his dreams tonight will follow a similar path to the night before.

Cas manages to finish cooking dinner without his thoughts drifting to the filthy things Dean whispers in his ear when they’re alone, and he most certainly doesn’t think on the ways he enjoys drawing the neediest sounds from his lover.

Cas flushes when he realizes his thoughts are beginning to drift again as he drains the water from the pasta.

When the lock giggles and Chuck pushes through the door a moment later, Cas takes a step closer to the counter to hide…no, to get a better angle for mixing the pasta with the sauce.

Ugh, why couldn’t he have gone through his incessant horniness when he was younger! He’s almost twenty for crying out loud! He should be past all this nonsense.

Chuck mumbles his usual greeting, eyes skimming right over the top of the letter Cas had left on the table, and Cas waits for him to notice.

“Castiel? Are you well?” Chuck finally stops babbling and looks up to meet Castiel’s gaze. “You’re more quiet than usual,” Chuck accuses, narrowing his eyes as if that will help him decipher Castiel’s unusual mood.

Cas nods and swallows hard, a smile creeping over his features. “I heard from UF,” He says simply, eyes drifting unbidden to the papers sitting on the table.

Chuck follows his gaze to the letter and then snaps his attention back to Castiel. “And?” He asks, but his tone suggests he does not doubt as to what the answer is.

“I’m in,” Cas says, trying not to let too much excitement bleed into his tone but his heart flutters around his chest like a butterfly and he can’t help but bounce a little on the balls of his feet. He gives up trying to suppress his grin.

“I knew you would!” Chuck exclaims, blue eyes alight with excitement. “I’m so proud of you,” He steps closer with his arms open and Cas goes into the hug willingly.

“Thank you,” Cas mutters, feeling the telltale prick of tears gathering in the corners of his eyes. He’ll never be able to express his gratitude for everything Chuck has done for him since they met. Cas clings a little longer than he normally would, but Chuck seems to sense how much Castiel needs this.

Dinner goes by quickly and Cas decides to go see Rufus tomorrow to tell him the news. It’s been far too long since he’s been able to spend an afternoon staring out at the water with his friend and a fishing pole in hand. Nothing quite matches the calm of the waves lapping against the dock supports and the pelicans flying low over the water as it sparkles in the setting sun. He misses that, even though he’s only been away from the pier for a week.

Chuck offers to clean up and sends Cas off to work on his term paper due in two weeks. The course is nothing but research-based writing, which is boring enough, but Castiel chose his topic to be a dissection of the conflicting research regarding Ancient Roman civilization. He has done so much research on his own and is frustrated with the amount of guessing the so-called experts have done to piece together what life in Ancient Rome was like.

Some of the things he’s read about Herculaneum have downright offended his intelligence.

Chuck has been quick to remind him that quite literally no one has the insight he does thanks to his dreams but that does little to dim his frustrations.

So, Castiel decided to do something about it when his Professor introduced the term project and left the topics for them to choose.

He has carefully cataloged centuries of research and sought out ancient texts from Pliny the Elder, who was killed by Vesuvius when it erupted in AD 79, and the man’s nephew, Pliny the Younger, who was a teen during the eruption. The writings of both men have been invaluable, as have the writings of Livy, Tacitus, and many others.

How so many scholars have disregarded their works, Castiel cannot understand.

His paper is limited to thirty pages, but he feels he could easily write a hundred or more and still not touch on everything he has to say.

The greatest challenge he’s faced has been disguising his own experiences with evidence backed by scholars more qualified than himself. Through his research, any remaining doubt he’d been harboring about his dreams has been obliterated.

There is no way he could have dreamt the things he’s seen without having lived through them.

He writes and edits until his eyes begin to ache and his fingers stumble over the keys a little too belligerently. His mind still races with ideas and new angles he wants to discuss, but his body is telling him that he’s had enough.

Besides, Dean is waiting for him. At least he hopes.

A simple click to ensure his documents have all saved is all it takes before Cas snaps his laptop shut and pushes away from the computer with a yawn. A glance at the clock shows that Chuck has likely long since gone to bed, and Cas should have done the same hours ago.

His lips twist into a grimace as he does the math in his head. Five hours until his alarm will wake him up for class tomorrow. A groan escapes him as he pushes to his feet and stretches his arms high above his head. He needs to shower still but he can barely convince his eyes to stay open now that he’s started thinking of Dean once again.

His nighttime routine goes far too slowly for his liking and his hair is still damp when he’s crawling between his sheets. Four and a half hours. He lets out a sad sigh and shakes his head at his alarm clock.

That isn’t nearly enough time.

\---

_“Congratulations, Castiel,” Senator Inias says as he dips his chin._

_Cas grins and drops his gaze. “I am grateful for your support, Inias,” He says quietly. “I thank each of you for this opportunity,” He says a little louder, lifting his eyes to meet those of the men surrounding him._

_Today, the Senators held a quorum to select Castiel as lead Orator. He holds his chin high whilst attempting to ignore the angry glare aimed at the back of his head._

_Bernardo is nearly twenty years his elder and holds almost that much more experience. He has never made his jealous dislike of Castiel a secret and Cas doesn’t expect him to suddenly change now._

_“You are an excellent speaker, Castiel, I trust you will not disappoint the Republic.” Senator Valarius rests his hand atop Cas’ shoulder in a comforting gesture. Several other senators murmur their agreement and a smaller handful turn away to resume their business as if their representatives to the plebeians mean little when compared to the platters of delicacies brought to them by their slaves for the afternoon meal._

_“Thank you, Senator,” Castiel says, placing a closed fist over his chest as he dips his chin respectfully. Inside, he’s soaring but outwardly he must take great care to keep his emotions in check._

_He is the youngest to hold this position in well over a generation. He cannot afford to allow himself the luxury of youthful excitement. He will save that for Dean when he goes home._

_“Would you care to dine with me this afternoon?” Inias reclaims Castiel’s attention with his softly spoken words and kind gaze._

_Cas feels warmth bloom in his chest as he nods. He had never imagined when Inias first approached him that they would become such friends. “I would enjoy that,” Cas says with a smile as he gestures for Inias to lead the way._

_They drift to one of the rear rooms of the Curia, blatantly ignoring the angry huff from Bernardo as Cas turns his back and walks away with Inias and the other Senators._

_A great platter of fruits, meats, and cheeses is brought and set between them. Cas is reminded of his youth with Dean and the meals they shared secluded in Castiel’s bedroom._

_The slave who brought the platter takes a step back to stand behind Inias with his hands clasped over his front. Cas gives the man a nod of thanks and is gratified to see him silently return the gesture._

_“So, tell me, Castiel. You have been in Rome for two years now, do you miss your home?” Inias questions earnestly as he tears a hunk of bread with his teeth._

_Both men recline slightly on the low couches while others do the same in small groups around them. The morning session went far longer than expected, with one of the Senior Magistrates having been assassinated. Choosing his successor took far longer than anyone had anticipated, and then the motion to promote Castiel had come as a surprise._

_Castiel is going to have his work cut out for him on the rostrum this afternoon._

_He takes a deep breath, considering Inias’ question. “I miss the ease of youth, but Rome holds everything I had hoped to find. I would say I am happy here.”_

_Inias nods in understanding. “And Dean? You came to Rome for his benefit, am I correct?”_

_Cas’ mind races for an appropriate answer but he finds himself nodding regardless. “Dean was my faithful servant my entire childhood. I was honored to grant him his freedom,”_

_Inias hums, “Good servants are often worth more to us free than they are enslaved.”_

_Castiel’s head tilts as he regards Inias’ words but he is unable to decipher a reason to disagree. “Dean is my closest friend, I could not in good conscious keep his freedom from him once I came of age.” He narrows his eyes as he speaks, wary that Inias may disagree despite his generally mild disposition._

_“So, you ran away to free him?” Inias questions with an arched brow and terror erupts in Castiel’s stomach._

_Yes, he ran away with Dean. In the eyes of many, his actions could be seen as disobeying his father which would bring nothing but shame to his family. “My father directed me to Rome. It was my mother who did not wish my friendship with Dean,” Castiel says, he stretches the truth some but he stares into Inias’ eyes as if daring the man to declare him a liar._

_Inias breaks into a grin and his head tilts back with a laugh. “Your father did not wish to cause further strain in his marriage then?” Inias looks to Cas with a spark of mischief in his eye and amusement displayed in his expression. “Those hassles are all the more reason to not take a wife.”_

_Cas lets a small laugh loose but his heart thuds too painfully for the gesture to be genuine. “She is a stubborn woman.” He shrugs. He isn’t going to touch Inias’ comment about not taking a wife, not even with a very long pole._

_“She would never have left you and Dean in peace had you stayed,” Inias observes, a little too accurately for Castiel’s liking. “A good friend is worth some excitement I do believe,” He laughs again, and Cas finds himself smiling as well._

_The way the word friend rolls off Inias’ tongue has a spark of unease lighting in Cas’ stomach, but he refuses to address his concerns. His position is too precarious to risk implanting a hint of doubt in Inias’ mind. “How did you come to be in Rome, Senator?” Castiel asks, deflecting._

_“Ah, that, my friend, is a story for another time. Suffice to say I had my own parental troubles after my time as a soldier,” Inias says, his firm gaze leaving no room for argument as he lifts his wine to his lips._

_Castiel frowns but nods. “I was not aware you served?” He hopes that the military might be a more welcome topic._

_“I did,” Inias nods his agreement as he reaches for a glistening piece of roasted rabbit. “I served as a General directly under Vespasian before he became Emperor. He placed me on the Senate as a show of goodwill shortly after he was declared Emperor.”_

_“You are a warrior then,” Castiel says with an appreciative nod._

_Inias lets out a huff of laughter and a wry smile. “I was. More so than my mother could ever be proud of.” His words are light but his tone edges on bitter and Castiel can’t help the dozen more questions that develop in his mind. “But, enough of that. Perhaps I could have your opinion on the new amphitheater being built atop Nero’s gardens.”_

_Castiel takes the redirect at face value, as a cue to change the topic to something more comfortable. “I feel that amphitheater is an improvement, although the colossus of Nero across the way is still an eyesore,” He complains absently, reflecting the popular opinion of the people._

_Truthfully, the gilded statue is an impressive sight to behold but it represents all that Rome has come to despise about her previous ruler. Vespasian's alterations are a bit of an improvement._

_“Very true,” Inias agrees, his easy smile returning. “The entire palace was an insult to the people.”_

_Castiel nods, remembering all too well the outrage when Nero confiscated the lands from the Plebeians who once lived in that space._

_Nero was a self-indulgent, spoiled, brat who should never have been trusted with ruling an Empire. To be truthful, Castiel is thankful that he and Dean were not in Rome during the time he ruled or shortly after his suicide. When Nero was declared a public enemy by the senate, waves of discontent roiled through the empire, quickly reaching Ercolano and beyond._

_News of Nero’s suicide was welcome, but then there was the unrest and discontent with the men who took his place._

_Vespasian was the fourth emperor in the short span of two years, and he only took the position when he had his followers murder his predecessor. Few people know exactly who committed the dead, but it was rumored that Vespasian placed those he deemed most loyal in high positions._

_Almost as soon as the thought strikes him, Cas turns to Inias with widened eyes, but the man has his back turned, requesting something of the slave hovering behind him and oblivious to Castiel’s sudden burning questions._

_Questions that Castiel decides will never be voiced._

_Despite his origins, Vespasian has gone to great lengths to return to the people what was taken by Nero, and that includes building the largest amphitheater the world has ever seen at the center of Nero’s destroyed palace. If Inias is one of the conspirators who placed him in power, Castiel is glad that the man has become a friend rather than an adversary._

_“I must be going,” Castiel says calmly despite the racing of his heart. He smiles if only for show as his mind struggles to process this information._

_Soft-spoken, gentle, Inias is a seasoned warrior. Castiel can see the restrained grace in his movements, the calculating way he watches his surroundings, but Cas had never imagined that the unassuming senator might be someone far more dangerous._

_Someone capable of murdering an Emperor._

_He shouldn’t be surprised. This is Rome after all. And Rome is as ruthless as she is beautiful._

_Inias turns his attention back and gives Cas a knowing smile that has Cas swallowing hard. Inias intended for him to put the pieces together and he knows that Castiel has._

_Now all that is left is to determine why._

_A show of friendly trust? A subtle threat?_

_“I look forward to seeing you in the morning, Castiel,” Inias says smoothly, not bothering to rise from his reclined position._

_“And I, you,” Castiel responds as he pushes to his feet. “Thank you for sharing in your meal,” Castiel says to Inias with a nod before turning his gaze to the slave still standing behind. “And thank you for your attentive service.” He smiles faintly and gives a slight nod, not missing the twitch of a smile on the man’s face at his words._

_He refuses to be neglectful of those forced into serving him. He will not be the type of man who takes those beneath him for granted when his privilege and their servitude are merely consequences of their births, absent of consideration for their character._

_The Senate has little for him to proclaim this afternoon, but he mounts the rostrum all the same. He needs to introduce the newly elected Magistrate before he attempts to persuade the populace to support the Emperor’s new plans to expand the empire north._

_Rome’s army needs more soldiers to hold the newly subdued regions of Britain and more taxes to support said army._

_Castiel looks out over the crowd and smiles when he catches the familiar sight of the greenest eyes he has ever seen._

_Dean waves to Castiel through the crowd and looks up with a bright smile._

_Cas can hardly wait to be done for the day so he can go home and lose himself in Dean’s arms but seeing him in the crowd is a rare treat._

_Castiel clears his throat and begins, his speech already prepared from the day before with only some minor changes. Tonight, when he goes home, he will need to spend some time developing his words for tomorrow._

_His task is not an easy one, but the person who matters the most is hanging onto his every word just below his feet._

_As he speaks, the men and women listening drift to the periphery of his consciousness. Little is left outside of the drone of his own voice and the way Dean watches him grow passionate with his words._

_Most of his mannerisms on this stage are an act. Intentional dramatics designed to impress the importance of his words on the ears of his target audience, but Cas plays his part well._

_He had excellent teachers._

_His speech goes quickly and soon enough, he’s off the stage and making his way to Dean._

_They don’t dare embrace in public, but Cas greets him with a wide smile. “I’m done for the day,” He says, bumping Dean’s shoulder as he had often done when they were boys._

_“I just came to the market to find some fresh meat for supper, thought I’d come by and see you work your magic,” Dean says with a teasing smirk as he returns Cas’ nudge._

_“We should buy some fine wine, I have news to celebrate,” Castiel says, falling into step beside Dean._

_“Yeah?” Dean questions, shifting the bundles in his arms to keep everything balanced._

_“I was promoted today. Senator Inias put my name forth and the majority agreed with him,” Castiel grins as he lets his excitement bubble upward. He eyes Dean’s burdens and wishes he could take some of the weight, but they must keep up appearances so he keeps his hands to himself._

_Cas keeps his attention so focused on Dean, that he fails to notice the venomous glare being aimed at the two of them from behind._

_Castiel’s fondness for Dean is obvious to anyone who happens to possess a pair of eyes, and they just happened to be in the sights of the one person who has become determined to ruin Castiel._

_“That is wonderful news,” Dean says, “We should celebrate.” He smirks, trailing a finger up Castiel’s arm lightly and without discretion._

_“Dean,” Cas chastises on a breath, taking a half step away. “You know we can’t...”_

_Dean’s smile dims just enough for a dark cloud to color his expression before the emotion disappears. The crowds part around them, seemingly oblivious to their affections, but that could change in an instant with ruinous results._

_Dean nods just enough to show his acceptance and Cas gives him a twitch of a smile as they continue walking toward the market._

_They meander through the stalls of the market as Castiel searches for the perfect items. The shouts of the vendors and the stench of animals create a chaotic atmosphere, but people quickly make room for Castiel. His bright white toga with wide purple stripe declares him a member of the elite class of Rome, and his renown as an orator makes him easily recognizable to the masses. People scramble to get out of his way._

_Castiel keeps a close eye on Dean, knowing the crowds will give him no such respect. Dean still wears a simple tunic, like many of the plebeians in the market. To their eyes, he is unimportant and the crowd threatens to swallow him into their ranks._

_“Dean!” Castiel calls out when they become separated and several men and women stop to stare at the sound of a familiar voice._

_“Right here!” Dean calls back but Cas cannot find his face in the crowd. His heart rate spikes as his eyes dart from person to person. He is nearly ready to call out again when he feels a light touch at his elbow. “Right here,” Dean says again, softer this time, as he gives Cas a gentle smile. “I saw these and thought of you.” Dean holds out a small cloth bundle and carefully peels back an edge to reveal fresh honeycomb, nearly dripping with the sweet nectar that Castiel loves so much._

_Cas smiles, his eyes sparkling with warmth as he leans to whisper in Dean’s ear. “I know exactly what I want to do with that later.” He pitches his voice low and keeps his tone suggestive and finds himself pleased when his words elicit a deep shiver from Dean._

_“Let’s go home,” Dean gulps, staring through the people surrounding them as if they were invisible._

_Cas leans close with a smirk playing on his lips. “As you wish, mi carissime,” He whispers before pulling away and striding forward as if he hasn’t just pushed enough of Dean’s buttons to reduce the man to a trembling puddle of want._

_Dean catches up when Castiel is ordering two meals to go from a restaurant near the edge of the forum and he makes his presence known by a discreet swat on Cas’ backside. “You’re an ass,” Dean leans forward to whisper and Cas grins._

_“You love me,” Cas whispers back when the vendor has his back turned. He gives Dean a cocky smirk while butterflies dance low in his stomach. He never fails to be amazed by the way his heart clenches and his stomach flutters every time he meets Dean’s gaze._

_His entire world lives in the man behind those perfectly verdant eyes. He still cannot believe that Dean is his in the only way that has ever mattered._

_Dean shakes his head with a chuckle. “Sometimes I wonder why,” He gripes and Cas’ grin grows._

_“Hmm, I can think of a…” Cas starts but cuts himself short when the man who took his order returns._

_“Your order will be only another moment Sir,” The man informs before raking a judgmental gaze over Dean and the bundles he holds in his arms. “Would you like anything for your servant?” He questions with an arched brow, clearly angling for another sale._

_“Who do you think the second meal is for?” Castiel says more than questions with a sickly-sweet smile. “Dean deserves nothing less but the same as me.” His insides clench with disgust each time he can’t correct someone in their assumption of Dean’s place in his life._

_Dean flushes crimson and drops his gaze at the same time heat rises in Castiel’s chest. He hates that Dean is constantly relegated to a status less than equal, but the society in which they live demands that Dean always be considered inferior to nearly everyone._

_Even criminals hold a higher legal standing than Dean and there is so much wrong with that idea that Cas cannot even begin to dissect it. Dean’s only crime was being born to a slave, and for that, he is to suffer for the entirety of his life._

_“Very well sir, I understand,” The proprietor lowers his gaze meekly and Castiel is at once grateful and frustrated that his position affords him such respect._

_Another man from the back brings two carefully wrapped bundles from the back with his gaze pointed at the floor. His tunic is mostly clean but nearly in tatters and his feet are bare._

_Cas takes the bundles with murmured thanks before the slave hurries into the back once again. “Thank you.” Castiel gives the store owner a nod but his tone is chilly before he turns back to Dean without waiting for a response._

_The walk home is silent at first, both Cas and Dean mulling over the restaurant owner’s words. Almost daily, they are confronted with the reminder that their relationship would be considered illicit in the eyes of society and yet the crushing weight of having to hide never lightens._

_“Someday we won’t have to hide,” Dean says hotly as soon as their villa comes into sight. “I swear, Cas. Someday…”_

_Cas can hear the anger threatening to bloom in Dean’s tone and he flinches a smile. Dean isn’t angry for himself. He never is. Dean had long ago accepted that he’ll never amount to anything in the eyes of society. It’s Castiel who refuses to accept that._

_The bitter resentment coils deep in Cas’ gut every time he can’t kiss Dean in public or even hold his hand like men and women sometimes do. He isn’t ashamed. He refuses to be. And yet that doesn’t stop him from being a coward and hiding his feelings from everyone except Dean._

_“You’re too good for me,” Cas mumbles, shaking his head and Dean barks a laugh. If Cas were a stronger man, he would fight against the chains that society binds them with. He would be able to make Dean his equal._

_Cas opens their door and steps through, Dean following readily and closing the door firmly behind them using his back. Cas quickly sets their meals on the table and helps Dean with the groceries from the market, his stony silence deafening in their small some._

_“Cas, stop it.” Dean folds his arms over his chest and fixes Cas with a pursed-lip glare. “You’ve given me everything that you can. More than anyone else would have.”_

_“Still...” Cas begins to protest but Dean shakes his head and Cas falls silent._

_“You are everything I want. You are mine, aren’t you, Cas?” Dean asks, tone still firm enough to give Castiel pause._

_Cas nods dumbly, unwilling to refute Dean’s claim. “Always,” Cas drops his gaze to stare at the floor. Dean makes him feel weak and strong at the same time. So much so that he can barely meet Dean’s eyes when he admits the truth. “I would be nothing without you.”_

_“Now, that isn’t true.” Dean takes a step forward, his eyes warm and bright when Cas dares to meet them._

_Cas shakes his head in denial and swallows thickly. “It is. Dean, everything I’ve accomplished has been for you. To be able to give you the life you deserve, and I can’t...” He’s reached the limit of what he can give Dean. Short of him becoming Emperor, he can’t give Dean the status to make him truly free._

_He isn’t strong enough to lessen his own status to make himself equal to Dean. He’s a coward._

_“Cas.” Dean rubs a hand over Cas’ arm, gently urging Cas to meet his gaze. “As long as I have you, I have everything I want. I don’t care about them,” Dean says, waving his arm toward the door. “I get frustrated, just like you, but this is enough. Cas. I swear it is.”_

_Cas frowns but nods. He feels the same way. As long as he has Dean, that will be enough._

_Dean sighs and shakes his head. “I don’t know how to convince you.”_

_Cas gives Dean a wry smile and lets out a heavy breath. “Would you promise me that we’ll have this forever?”_

_A soft smile plays at Dean’s lips as he steps forward to cradle the back of Castiel’s head in his hand. “I promise that I will always be yours. In this life, the next and the one after that,” He says as he slowly guides Cas’ hand to rest over his heart. Their fingers intertwine as Dean holds Cas close._

_Cas’ breath shudders as his eyes slip closed and he tilts his chin up slightly to find Dean’s lips with his own. They meet gently, almost chaste with the subdued passion of a somber promise. Cas fights down a whine as he pulls away. “I promise to always be yours.” Cas pulls back to meet Dean’s eyes and his heart aches with how deeply he cares for this man. “In this life, the next and one after that. Forever. Even if I must traverse the Plain of Asphodel to find you, I promise I will never stop being yours.” Cas can feel his promise deep in his bones._

_If the gods are listening, he prays they help him fulfill his promise to Dean. His beloved._

_Dean gives him a small smile and his green eyes water as he strokes a thumb over Cas’ jawline. “I love you, so much,” He says, voice barely a whisper before he leans forward to draw Castiel into a deeper kiss._

_He slowly walks Cas backward and Castiel is all too happy to comply with Dean’s wishes._

_Dean breaks the kiss and leans forward until Cas can feel his warm breath tickling the shell of his ear. “Now, you said you had a plan for this honey?” Dean asks, brow quirked as he reaches behind Cas to pick up the neatly wrapped honeycomb._

_Cas is satisfied to see Dean’s smirk turn mischievous when Cas lowers his hands to squeeze Dean’s ass and haul him closer. “So many plans.”_

_Dean goes easily when Cas spins him and guides him toward their bedroom, and he gives up the honey even easier when Cas reaches for the small container. Cas leans close to speak softly in Dean’s ear the way he knows drives Dean crazy. “Do you know my favorite way to taste honey?”_

_Cas begins to circle slowly around Dean with a smirk when Dean shivers but doesn’t answer. Dean knows where Cas is going, this isn’t the first time they’ve gone there._

_Honey is one of Castiel’s favorite treats, he loves it on fresh bread and cheese. Sometimes he’ll add some to his wine to make Mulsum. But, above all else, his favorite way to enjoy honey is to lick it directly from Dean’s skin._

_Dean swallows hard and shifts, his erection already tenting the front of his tunic. Cas chuckles lowly as he runs his fingertips across Dean’s hip and over his groin, relishing in the twitch of Dean’s cock that he can feel through the thick material._

_“Undress for me?” Castiel asks, knowing Dean will happily comply but he sees no need to make demands._

_Dean swallows hard and nods, already reaching for the belt that holds his tunic close around his middle. Cas takes a moment to undress, his toga is an important part of his image, but the material is cumbersome to move in. He much prefers to wear loose tunics at home, but for now, he would prefer to be bare._

_No need for their clothing to get sticky._

_Dean climbs onto the bed, allowing Cas time to admire the strong planes of his nude form. Dean’s shoulders are broad and strong, enough so to make Castiel’s mouth water, and the sharp cut of Dean’s abdominal muscles are enough to bring him to his knees._

_Dean smiles broadly as Castiel looks his fill and then bites at his lip when Cas’ eyes settle on his hard cock, standing proudly from the tight curls at his groin. Dean takes advantage of Cas’ fixation and wraps his fingers loosely around his cock and tugs with a wanton moan. “You gonna keep me waiting?” Dean asks, his gaze hooded as he stares openly at Castiel._

_Cas’ lips curl into a smile as he crawls over top of Dean, forcing him to let go of his cock to make room for Castiel. Dean falls back with a laugh, eyes full of warmth and devotion as Cas runs his fingers through Dean’s short hair._

_Dean surges up and their mouths meet messily, making Cas moan into the kiss as his hands begin to roam over Dean’s heated skin. “Dean,” Cas says, ready to beg for more even though he’s the one on top of Dean controlling their kiss._

_Cas’ fingers find the hard nub of Dean’s nipple and he pinches down, satisfied when Dean bucks beneath him. His cock gives a delighted twitch of interest as Dean gasps and moans. The fine line between pain and pleasure is one Dean loves to walk and Cas is more than happy to oblige._

_“Cas, please,” Dean bucks his hips desperately as he turns his head toward the honey sitting next to the bd._

_Cas chuckles as he follows Dean’s line of sight. He doesn’t indulge Dean’s request, not yet. “So impatient.”_

_Dean groans and grabs Castiel’s shoulder. He digs his fingertips in Cas’ skin hard enough to almost hurt but he succeeds in holding Cas where he wants him. “Always,” Dean smirks. “Honey. Now.”_

_Cas laughs outright at Dean’s falsely demanding tone and drops his forehead to Dean’s chest, letting the vibrations from his laughter infect Dean until they’re both on the verge of falling into fits of giggles._

_Cas eventually pries himself from Dean’s grip so he can reach for the honey and Dean falls silent as Cas pulls out a glistening piece of fresh comb. “As you wish,” Castiel says as he smiles down at Dean’s mesmerized expression._

_Dean gasps at the first touch of the comb to his skin, the firm and waxy substance is a strange feeling no matter how many times he experiences the sensation. Cas slowly drags the comb across Dean’s chest, leaving behind a trail of sticky honey glistening in its wake._

_He takes great care to trace Dean’s nipples one by one, rubbing in circles until Dean is a writhing and panting mess beneath him._

_“Cas.” Dean throws his head back and keens as Cas dips the comb lower and allows his belly button to fill with the sticky nectar._

_Cas watches the trail grown with darkened eyes. Every gasp of Dean’s goes straight to his cock and the sight of Dean’s erection so close to his own is enough to make Cas’ heart stutter. He shifts his hips down to give them both some much-wanted friction and Dean outright moans at the touch._

_Cas knows he can do better._

_He sets the honeycomb aside as Dean squirms, green eyes pleading for more. “Cas,” Dean says, his voice barely a croak as Cas dips his head to press the tip of his tongue directly to Dean’s nipple._

_Cas circles and laves with his pointed tongue. He moans with pleasure at the delectable taste of honey sweetness combined with the faintest hint of salt from Dean’s skin. Dean will always remain his favorite thing to taste, but the added honey has Cas’ closing his eyes in bliss as his mind floats in a haze of contentment._

_Dean’s fingers immediately clutch at Cas’ hair to tug and hold Cas exactly where Dean wants and Cas goes easily with a wanton groan._

_Cas continues his task, licking and sucking away the sticky nectar with the strong belief that every new taste is now the best thing he’s ever tasted. Dean’s stomach tightens with a gasp of ticklish laughter when Cas dips his tongue into Dean’s naval and then sucks, diligently seeking out every last delicious drop._

_Eventually, Cas has cleaned all he can find, and his hands drift gently up and down Dean’s trembling sides. His ribs are less prominent now than when they were in Herculaneum and Cas will never tire of the changes maturity has brought to Dean’s body._

_They’re both still young, bodies still changing, but Cas cannot imagine he will ever grow bored with worshiping Dean with the entirety of his being._

_He wordlessly reaches for the honeycomb once again, his eyes telling Dean everything that needs to be said as he pushes himself upright and scoots down the bed until his knees are bracketed by Dean’s._

_He can’t help but give Dean a wicked smirk as he lifts the saturated comb high and allows the golden syrup to drizzle over Dean’s hard length, coating his member until drips travel over Dean’s balls and threaten to spill onto the bed._

_Dean whimpers in anticipation and does his best not to thrust his hips as Cas sets the honeycomb aside before licking his fingers one by one with his outstretched tongue as Dean watches. Cas takes delight in seeing Dean’s pupils so blown that barely any green remains and his now honey-coated cock is straining and red._

_Cas doesn’t see any need to make his love suffer._

_Once his fingers are clean, he settles himself just a little bit lower and dips his head to lick a broad stripe down the length of his cock only to swirl around the base._

_Dean gasps and thrusts but Cas holds his hips down firmly as he hums with contentment. “You’re so amazing,” Cas says against the warmth of Dean’s skin before trailing his tongue up Dean’s shaft to the head of his cock._

_He doesn’t use his hands, no, those are busy keeping Dean in place as Cas licks and suckles his way around the thickness of Dean’s cock. Just enough to make Dean whimper and whine with the torment._

_Cas takes his time, savoring, and he lets out breathy moans of contentment as he cleans Dean’s cock of the sticky sweetness._

_Only when Cas no longer tastes a hint of honey and Dean is nearly weeping with need does he take Dean’s cockhead into his mouth and suck._

_Dean’s cry of pleasure has Cas grinning with his lips stretched wide as he sinks down, keeping steady pressure on Dean’s dick._

_He decides to stop teasing now, as Dean’s grip tightens in his hair, he lets Dean guide him. Up and down, sucking harshly and pressing firmly with his tongue, he lets Dean fuck his face._

_Dean’s breathy moans fill the space and Cas feels drunk off his love’s pleasure. His head swims as he continues to slide his mouth up and down Dean’s shaft and his fingertips dig into Dean’s hips hard enough to leave marks._

_He belongs to Dean, he would give Dean anything and this, this is perfection._

_“Cas!” Dean tenses and pushes Cas’ head down as his body bows._

_Cas knows the signs and he hollows his cheeks as he swallows around Dean’s cock. Dean whimpers and bucks, his fingers tug Cas’ hair on the just the right side of painful so Cas begins to hum._

_The vibrations in Cas’ throat prove to be Dean’s undoing._

_He comes with a broken cry, his cock spurting hot ropes of come over Cas’ tongue and down his throat. Cas swallows greedily as he loosens his grip on Dean’s hips and begins absently stroking the soft skin with his fingertips._

_“Gods, Cas,” Dean says, his voice strained and breathy as he lets out a disbelieving laugh._

_Cas grins as he lets Dean’s softening cock slip free from his lips and looks up Dean’s body to meet those perfect green eyes with his own._

_Dean’s expression is fucked out and lazy. His eyes droop with exertion and he can barely hold his head up. Cas feels a spark of satisfaction when he meets Dean’s gaze. His lover’s lazy smile makes warmth bloom in his chest._

_“Cas.” Dean makes grabby hands for him and Cas grins as he crawls up the length of Dean’s body to meet his mouth is a heated kiss. Dean hums as he tastes himself of Cas’ lips, the faintest hint of honey lingers on his breath and Cas snuggles down against Dean’s warm body. “What about you?” Dean says with his voice muffled against Castiel’s shoulder._

_“I’m good,” Cas mutters back, giving a roll of his hips to prove his point. Dean’s release was enough to spark his own and he doesn’t regret the extra mess even a little bit._

_“Again?” Dean asks with a disbelieving laugh._

_Cas buries his nose in Dean’s shoulder, fighting against an embarrassed smile. “You know what you do to me.”_

_“Gods, you’re adorable,” Dean says with a smile as he runs his fingertips over Cas’ shoulders and down his back._

_Cas eventually rolls off Dean and they lay shoulder to shoulder, pointedly ignoring the mess Cas made between Dean’s knees for just a little longer. This simple moment is absolute perfection and Cas’ eyes drift closed in the bliss of having Dean by his side with no one else watching._

_In these moments, Cas can truly give Dean what he deserves, which is everything he has to offer._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's only day two of GISH and I'm already exhausted. Getting this ready to post took far longer than I had expected because I kept getting distracted by my Jensen Ackles "Taste the Rainbow" Pie that I'm developing a recipe for. The fact that Misha made this pie worth 69 points very nearly killed me in the best of ways.
> 
> Anyway, if you're taking time out from GISH to read this, I hope it fills you with all the happy and fuzzy feelings that Misha certainly isn't this week.


	10. Twenty

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Between lashing out at one of his professors and having an unexpected reunion with someone from his past, Cas is having quite the day...and that is before his very first college party. Thankfully, Cas finds some much-needed release in his dreams.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning for this chapter: Non-consensual drug use involving a date rape drug (not Cas, don't worry). See the endnote for further details if this might concern you. 
> 
> Also, Dean and Cas are taking full advantage of not being underage anymore.

“Mr. Novak,” Doctor Adler says, “Would you care to inform the class why you’ve decided to disparage known facts about the Roman Empire and instead give credence to halfcocked fantasies?”

The professor drops Cas’ paper noisily onto his desk and Cas bristles, glaring firmly at the assbutt who teaches this class.

No one likes Zachariah Adler, and Cas is certainly not going to be the exception to that rule.

“The book you assigned us is wrong,” Castiel says as he shifts his paper to be right side up. “Simple research shows that women in Ancient Rome were NOT subjugated to the extent this pitiful excuse for a textbook would have us believe.”

Adler flushes crimson, his already short fuse made shorter by the fact that Castiel is not afraid to speak his mind in class. “And what research might this be, Novak? Some liberal drivel you heard on NPR?” He asks as he folds his arms over his chest and looks down his nose at Castiel with a sneer.

Cas rolls his eyes and shakes his head. “No. The classic masters have plenty to say on the subject in their firsthand accounts. Plato, Pliny the Elder _and_ Younger, Cicero...they clearly describe women in society in ancient times. They describe women owning property as commonplace, engaging in banking practices and even having multiple lovers. True, they weren’t permitted to vote, but if the authors of this text had bothered to do any research at all instead of making baseless assumptions, they would have easily seen that women were not treated as poorly as slaves. Pliny the Elder even wrote that menstruating women were thought to have superpowers that could control the weather. But no, they chose to wallow in their ignorance and falsely attribute the subjugation of women to Ancient times as an excuse to treat women poorly today!”

Cas doesn’t know at what point he stood up, but he finds himself toe to toe with his fuming professor. Adler is known for being a sexist bastard, and the women in his class are all watching Castiel with stars in their eyes.

Frankly, Castiel’s outburst has been a long time coming and he may or may not have rehearsed some of his angry speech as he was fuming after previous class sessions. Even outside of his dreams, he’s been researching with Chuck for years.

He knows more than enough about Roman culture to stand his ground against this bully.

Doctor Adler breathes in heavily through his nose and his eyes bulge with his outrage. “Who is the professor in this class, Novak?” Adler says as he gathers himself to stand taller. He looms over Castiel, but Cas refuses to back down.

“Somehow, you. But clearly being hired to teach a class does not mean...” Cas says but Adler cuts him off.

“Sit down or get out!” Adler says, all semblance of patience for Castiel’s dissent is clearly spent.

Cas shrugs with a smirk despite his wildly hammering heart. He knows he’s right, and he’s pretty sure that the entire class knows he’s right. That doesn’t stop the utter terror coursing through his veins.

Is he insane!?

He retakes his seat and calmly folds his hands on his desk, squeezing them together to hide his trembling, and looks up to meet Adler’s venomous gaze like he doesn’t have a care in the world.

“Now, if we are done with baseless interruptions, we have a lot of material to cover today,” Adler turns his back on Castiel and strides to the front of the room. His feet fall heavy on the linoleum floor as he approaches the whiteboard with tension clearly outlined in his shoulders.

“Professor, I do have one question,” Meg Masters raises her hand and eyes the professor innocently.

“What, Ms. Masters?” Adler says with a sigh. His tone belies impatience, but Meg takes her sweet time in responding just to spite him.

“Well, it’s about our textbook’s implication that the vow of chastity taken by the Vestal Virgins was an effort of the ruling class to control female sexuality even in ancient times. If that were true, then why were the Vestals held in such high regard by society? If women were inherently thought of as less, then I wouldn’t think the Romans would have put them in such an important position.” Meg says, cocking her head slightly as she looks up the professor. Her sweet and slightly husky voice conflicts with the glint of mischief in her eye.

“It is arguable how well-regarded Vestals were by society. Especially since they were put under such harsh restrictions when they were merely children.” Adler says and Cas rolls his eyes. “How else could forced chastity be interpreted if not as a measure of control? The punishment of being buried alive should be enough evidence to support the idea that the sexuality of women was something to be abhorred.” He crosses his arms over his chest and adopts a smug smirk when Meg nods her head with a frown.

Cas sighs and shakes his head. “Professor, the Vestal Virgins were highly influential women. They were held to chastity because the Roman’s believed only virgin women were worthy of communing with a virgin Goddess. They believed men were inherently UNworthy, therefore placing them below the status of the Vestal Virgins.”

Adler clenches his jaw and glares. “Enough, Novak. One more word and you _will_ be failing this class.”

“But he’s right, professor!” Anna Milton raises her hand but continues without further permission. “Their purity was only important because of the importance of the fires they kept. Sure, to us the entire institution seems foolish, but to them, the fires of Vesta were of dire importance. The policy wasn’t born of misogyny at all. They believed woman were the only people good enough for the job.”

Adler takes a deep breath and leans over his desk to stare out over the small class. “Alright, then tell me, how was being forced to become one of these Priestesses a benefit to anyone other than the men in power?” He arches a brow, convinced he’s found a trap.

Another student raises their hand, a young man Cas doesn’t know yet but who has a light and airy European accent that Cas can’t quite place. “They were well compensated for their service. After their pledged time, they could retire as independently wealthy women. And oftentimes their female family members were protected from the patriarchy beginning at the time they took their vows. To me, it seems that becoming a Vestal was a way to empower women, not control them.”

A chorus of agreement sounds from around the room as Cas eyes the back of the other man’s head with an impressed look. Several students voice their own opinions at the same time and Adler visibly becomes more frustrated. Cas bites the inside of his cheek as he folds his arms over his chest and stares at Adler with a smirk.

“Quiet!” Adler says, slapping a hand down on his desk.

“You asked for their opinions, Professor,” Cas says coolly once the din begins to quiet.

“Novak. Out!” Adler points toward the door and the rest of the students instantly fall silent.

Meg huffs audibly as Cas slowly stands and collects his things and Anna begins to pack up her belongings as well.

Cas holds his chin high when he slings his bag over his shoulder and turns toward the door without another word. His stomach lurches and his heart refuses to calm as he forces one foot in front of the other, determined to make it through the door without making a fool of himself. The scraping of chairs and soft footsteps seem to follow him, but he doesn’t turn back to look. He doesn’t want anyone to see the flaming heat that’s gathered in his cheeks.

“And where do you think you’re going!” Adler asks but not one student bothers to respond. They instead leave him huffing and scowling at the front of the room.

“That was epic,” Meg says as she snags Cas’ elbow before the door falls shut.

Cas groans and spins to slouch against the wall. His head smacks the painted cinderblock with an audible thunk. “He’s going to fail me.”

“Not if I have anything to say about it,” The young man Cas doesn’t know says as he leans against the wall next to Cas.

Cas’ brow furrows and he finally looks around. It seems that half the class walked out with him but most have wandered away already, surely using his disruption as an excuse to sneak out of class. “I don’t think we’ve met,” Cas says as he takes in the young man leaning against the wall beside him. He lets out a strained breath. What’s done is done with Adler. “I’m Castiel.”

“Balthazar,” He holds out his hand for Castiel to shake.

Cas takes Balthazar’s offering and uses the opportunity to really get a good look at him. The dark blond-haired man stands slightly shorter than Cas himself and those tousled curls paired with his soft blue eyes give him a boyish look. Cas finds him handsome, objectively speaking of course, and he smiles to match the easy grin on the man’s face.

“It was brave of you to stand up to him, Castiel,” Anna says as she steps forward. “I’m Anna.” She smiles as she holds out her hand to Castiel.

Cas has seen Anna before, much like Meg, but never spoken to her outside the context of the classroom. Her red hair hangs to her shoulders and her light brown eyes border on hazel when they aren’t ducked shyly toward the ground.

Cas shakes his head in dismay. “I think I might have been more stupid than brave.”

“Adler’s an ass, you did us all a favor,” Balthazar chimes in as he slings an arm over Castiel’s shoulder and begins to lead him down the hall. “Just for that, you’re coming to my party tonight.”

“I, uh, what?” Cas says as he turns his head to meet Balthazar’s gaze. He’s following the other man’s lead, letting himself be taken who knows where. “A party?”

Castiel’s mind flashes back to Uriel’s parties in high school and his stomach clenches in dread. He can’t go back to that. “I shouldn’t.”

“Come on, Clarence, Bal throws the best parties. You’ll love it.” Meg falls into step next to them and smirks when she meets Cas’ worried gaze.

“That is not my name...” Cas says, starting to pull away from Balthazar. He turns to face the three of them with narrowed eyes, trying to decipher what their angle is.

His peers don’t like him, in his experience, and this sudden camaraderie has his stomach roiling with uncertainty.

Meg shrugs, not bothering to apologize. “Clarence suits you.”

“Balthazar’s parties are always fun, Castiel. You should come,” Anna says softly as she clutches her notebook over her chest. She chews on her lip slightly as she waits for Cas to make up mind.

Chuck has been telling him for years that he should at least try to make friends, but he’s never fit in anywhere. Maybe he should give this social thing a try. He nods. “Okay.”

“Excellent!” Balthazar grins. “Here’s the address. People usually show up around ten.” Balthazar quickly takes the piece of scrap paper offered by Meg and scrawls his information down to hand off to Castiel.

“Looking forward to seeing you there,” Meg says huskily.

Cas’ narrows his eyes, trying to puzzle through her expression. Meg seems to flirt with everyone in the class and Cas is half convinced she wears her beauty like armor to cover her thorns.

“See you tonight, Castiel,” Anna says with a dip of her chin before she turns to walk away.

Balthazar’s debonair attitude has Cas flushing hot and cold with uncertainty and Meg’s shallow flirtations has his skin itching. Anna, at least, seems nice.

 Balthazar seems like the type who is always the most popular man in the room and isn’t hindered by other people’s expectations. Cas can’t see what someone like that wants with him. “You’re gonna have a blast, Cassie.” Balthazar slings his arm back over Castiel’s shoulders and begins to walk.

“I, uh.” He doubts that. He very much doubts that. “If you say so.” Cas swallows hard and frowns. He can’t decide whether he’s pushing himself or being pushed right now. Deep down, he knows going out and trying to make friends would be good for him. Going home to his studio apartment to spend the weekend alone certainly isn’t going to make him any friends.

Besides, these are people in his major. His classmates. Aren’t college students supposed to hang out with their classmates?

“I’ve got another class soon,” Cas says, forcing himself to pull away from Balthazar’s grasp.

“See you tonight!” Balthazar takes the hint and releases Castiel’s shoulders before he turns to head through the double doors leading outside. He doesn’t wait for Castiel to respond and he’s gone before Cas can even formulate something to say.

Cas takes a deep breath and steels himself for an uphill battle the rest of the semester. He knows he pissed off Adler, but he couldn’t stop himself from speaking up. The man should not be teaching a class on the culture of Ancient Rome when he doesn’t even know the history.

Cas has a deep suspicion that Adler uses some of Rome’s more misunderstood practices to further his own agenda.

Thus far, the Professor has lambasted homosexual acts and women’s suffrage. In a historical context of course, but the sneer in his voice as his gaze landed on some of his classmates has been poorly concealed and enough to spark righteous fury deep inside Castiel.

His near failing grade on the most recent paper was the last straw.

Cas had known Adler wouldn’t take kindly to his assertions. Especially to what Castiel had inferred about the sacred status of the Vestal Virgins.

Cas can’t help that the professor chose a purposefully obtuse text to teach the class from. And it is not his fault that the professor himself makes a used car salesman seem honest by comparison.

But being thrown out of class is something Castiel had not seen coming. He scuffs his foot on the floor as he walks, trying to let some of his frustration bleed out. A sinking sense of shame creeps up his spine as he continues to dwell. He should have just kept his mouth shut.

What if Adler makes good on his threat to fail him?

He needs this class to graduate and Adler is the only professor.

Retaking it might not be an option.

“Idiot,” Cas says to himself quietly enough for no one to overhear.

Since he was booted from Adler’s class, he has nearly forty minutes to kill until his last class of the day.

At least he knows he won’t have problems in Advanced Latin.

Dr. Redfield adores him.

Of course, being the best in his class helps with that.

Cas huffs to himself as he finds a place to sit in the lounge outside the faculty offices. The worn and outdated chairs are the closest place to his next class to set up camp.

\---

He was right to assume Latin would go well. Redfield may be an absolute scatterbrain, but he is a brilliant professor and Cas loves his class.

He stays behind a few minutes to speak with Donatello about the upcoming exam. Despite being assured that there will be no surprises, Castiel still has concerns over the format of the exam.

This is the first Latin class he’s taken where the students are expected to write a short essay in Latin. Understandably, Castiel is nervous.

Sure, he can write in Classical Latin just fine, but being graded on his writing by someone with only a modern understanding of the nuances within the language? Cas is not enthusiastic about the idea.

By the time he leaves, very few students remain in the building. It’s after five on a Friday. Of course, everyone is gone. But that doesn’t make the quiet of the nearly empty building any less eerie.

A slow and melodic whistle echoes down the hall from the direction Cas is heading and he smiles to himself. The tune is vaguely familiar, but he can’t place where he’s heard the notes before. Something about it causes warmth to bloom in his chest as he continues.

It isn’t until he rounds the corner to see the man standing in the middle of the hall with his cart of cleaning supplies that a crucial memory clicks into place.

The man in the grey jumpsuit has slightly too long golden-brown hair and Cas knows without seeing that he has some sort of candy in his mouth.

“Gabriel?” Cas says before he can stop himself and he stares wide-eyed as the familiar face turns toward him.

Gabriel tilts his head and pulls the sucker from his mouth as he studies Castiel with narrowed eyes. “I’m sorry, have we met? If this about the soda spill in the men’s bathroom, I’ll let to it in a…”

Castiel shakes himself out of his stupor when he hears the confusion in Gabriel’s voice. “Castiel. Castiel Novak. You, uh, you probably don’t remember me,” Cas says in a rush, already ducking his head and preparing to flee.

A tense moment passes where Gabriel stares at Castiel with confusion before recognition lights up his features.

“Holy shit!” Gabriel’s eyes widen comically, and he sets his broom aside with such haste that it falls to the floor with a clatter. He steps toward Castiel with purpose and both men swallow hard when Gabe comes to a stop only a foot away. “You...you’re okay?”

Gabriel’s words are as much a question as a statement and Cas lowers his gaze before nodding.

“Becky and I wondered what happened to you. You and your mom just disappeared. How is she, by the way?” Gabriel starts to ramble, hands gesturing excitedly before he reigns himself in.

“She, uh. She died. Couple of years ago, now.” Cas wrings his hands. He doesn’t like talking about her, or himself for that matter.

“Shit, kid. Sorry to hear that,” Gabriel says with sympathy in her eyes.

“I’m not,” Cas says quickly as he folds his arms over his chest. “Dying was the best thing she ever did for me.”

Gabriel recoils slightly at the lingering venom in Castiel’s words but he nods his head in understanding. He knew enough about Naomi to know what kind of mother she was.

People don’t change.

Gabriel’s nod turns into another step forward and he lifts a hand to rest on Castiel’s shoulder. “I can understand that.” Gabriel angles his head to meet Castiel’s eyes and shakes his head. “Can’t believe I didn’t recognize those baby blues.”

Cas huffs a laugh. “I’ve grown up,” He says with a dismissive shrug.

“Yeah, but you always had the most vivid blue eyes I’ve ever seen,” Gabe says with a faint smile. “You look good, kid.”

Cas laughs outright then and shakes his head. “I am. How have you been?” Cas asks. He needs to divert the attention before it all becomes too much.

Unlike anyone else at this school, Gabriel knows what Castiel’s home life growing up was like. He may have only seen a couple years of it, but he knows.

“I’ve been fine. Moved down here a few years ago.” Gabe grips the back of his neck and rubs nervously.

“I still have the backpack,” Cas says, eyes widening as he claps a hand over his mouth. Something about Gabe’s nervous expression makes him want to tell the man everything.

Gabe stops fumbling and stares at Cas with wide eyes.

“That, that was the best birthday I had as a kid. I…I’ve wanted to tell you that for years.” Tears prick in Castiel’s eyes as lets out a self-effacing laugh. He can’t believe he just blurted that out loud for the world to hear.

“Oh, Cassie.” Gabe’s gaze goes soft and he steps forward with his arms outstretched.

Cas swallows hard and goes willingly as Gabe wraps his arms tight around him. He stifles a sob, years of pent up gratitude fighting forward until he can barely contain them. “I didn’t want to leave.”

“I know, I know. You’re alright,” Gabe says before pushing Castiel back to hold at arm’s length. “Just look at you. All grown up, in college, making something of yourself. You did it, kid.” Gabe smiles as Cas sniffs back his tears. “And if you think I’m just gonna move on and not drag you out for drinks to catch up on the last ten years, you’re crazy.”

“Twelve,” Cas says with a widening smile.

Gabe waves his hand dismissively. “Whatever. My point still stands. Ohh! You’re an adult now, I don’t have to watch my language!”

Cas laughs at Gabriel’s contagious glee and shakes his head. He can hardly believe that this is happening.

“So, how about lunch tomorrow. Swamp Head? You do like beer, right?” Gabriel steps back, hands on his hips as he regards Castiel carefully.

Cas nods. He isn’t much of a drinker. Not after growing up with the mother he had, but it isn’t like he has anything against drinking responsibly. “Swamp Head is fine.” Cas has heard the food is good, “but I’m not twenty-one yet.” He does feel the need to point the obvious though.

Gabe blinks at him owlishly for a moment before shrugging. “Right, I forgot. No beer for you then. One sound okay? I’ll meet you there?” Gabe says easily, eyes bright and eager.

Cas nods again, seemingly incapable of little else. “Yeah, sounds good.”

Gabe grins. “Damn, it’s good to see you kid. Becky’s gonna lose her shit when I tell her. She’ll probably be on the next plane down here, knowing her.”

Cas’ breath hitches at the mention of who he can only assume is his old teacher. “Ms. Rosen?”

“The same,” Gabe says with a look in his eye that has Cas squinting to decipher.

Cas rubs at the back of his neck nervously as he regards the man who had meant so much to him in his childhood memories. Standing before him now, Gabe doesn’t look to be the superhero he had morphed into in Cas’ mind.

He looks like a normal man. Someone who had stepped up when he didn’t have to. Cas didn’t realize until much, much later, after his mother died, but Gabriel and Ms. Rosen gave him a definition of what care and support look like. Looking back, Cas sees how they laid the groundwork that had him seeking out people like Rufus and Chuck when he wasn’t getting the support he needed from the one people who should have been there for him.

He doesn’t know how he could ever express how much of an impact Gabriel and Ms. Rosen had on him. How much their memory helped him get through his childhood without falling into the trap his mother unintentionally laid.

“That’s, that’s great. I uh, I should let you get back to work,” Cas says nervously. This little reunion is beginning to border on overwhelming and he does not want to have an emotional breakdown in the middle of Flint Hall.

A flash of disappointment comes over Gabe’s features, but it’s gone before Cas can comment. “Yeah, you’re probably right. I’m sure you have things to do too,” Gabe says, not without a note of regret in his tone.

“See you tomorrow?” Cas is going to force his feet to move any second now, he swears it.

“Yeah. Swap Head. One o’clock. Don’t be late.” Gabe arches a brow and collects the broom he had been holding when Cas first interrupted him.

“I’ll be there,” Cas says with a smile as he shifts his backpack on his shoulders.

“Damn, it’s good to see ya, kid,” Gabe says, one more time, still staring at Cas as if he can hardly believe he’s standing there.

Cas can relate. He feels much the same. “Tomorrow,” He says with a nod before finally convincing his feet to move.

“Hasta Mañana!” Gabe says as Cas turns his back and Castiel can’t help but grin as he continues down the hall and out the door.

He decides to walk home instead of taking the bus today. He doesn’t live far, and he wants the time to think. He can’t believe his luck today. First, Adler pushes the last button of Castiel’s tolerance and then his reaction garnered him some potential friends. That alone would have been enough to make his head spin, but then to run into Gabriel so randomly? Cas can hardly believe his luck.

He trudges home and regrets his decision to walk as soon as he passes the last point where it would have made sense to get on the bus. He hadn’t realized just how hot today had gotten. His lungs feel half-drowned by the humidity and sweat beads along his brow and forms uncomfortably under his backpack.

By the time he pushes through his door into the blast of cold air conditioning, he is in dire need of a shower.

He dumps his bag just inside the door and heads straight to the kitchen to pour himself a glass of water before he tackles unpacking his bag for the weekend.

His notebooks are unceremoniously tossed onto the table in the dining nook just off his tiny little kitchen with the rest of his texts. His computer gets considerably more care when he plugs it in to charge. He can’t remember the last time he used his table to eat at. It became his desk almost immediately after he bought it off someone on craigslist for next to nothing. Now, there are far too many papers and books scattered over the surface to even consider risking adding food to the equation.

His research is far too important.

“Dean,” Cas says, voice barely a whisper as he stares at the sketch at the center of the jumbled mess. His fingers trace the edge of the portrait reverently. “I got kicked out of class today. You would have been proud,” He says to no one but the sketch in front of him. “And I ran into Gabriel. I never thought I’d see him again.”

He can’t help but wonder if maybe he didn’t fall too from his mother’s tree. Talking to a lousy sketch as if Dean is really here. He has to be at least a little bit nuts, right?

He’s been trying to find him, but with only a first name and an image in his mind he doesn’t think he’ll ever be able to.

That fact threatens to suffocate him every time it surfaces.

He won’t give up, though. He can’t. Dean has been the only constant in his life, the one person he could cling to when the rest of his world threatened to destroy him.

“We’ll find each other, I promise,” Cas says, giving the sketch one last longing look before he turns toward his bathroom.

He needs to shower before going to the party tonight.

\---

Later, much later, Cas stands in front of Meg and Balthazar with unease growing in his stomach. He can feel the thumping music vibrating through his chest and in his bones while people laugh and dance around them. The red solo cup in his hand feels heavy, the weight of his untouched beer beginning to make him feel like he doesn’t belong here.

Meg folds her arms over her chest after passing the freshly lit joint to Balthazar. “Come on, Clarence, lighten up,” She says, projecting her voice so she can be heard over the crowd.

Balthazar takes a long drag and holds in the smoke as he regards Castiel calmly.

Cas shakes his head. “I’ve never...” he begins to say before Balthazar’s eye roll shuts him up with a feeling of gross inadequacy. He isn’t about to tell these people he’s only just met his entire life story.

Along with the Ecstasy, Cas peddled a fair bit of marijuana for Uriel too. He always hated the stuff, but his job was to sell, not smoke. His opinion hadn’t mattered.

Balthazar shrugs and blows the smoke out of lungs slowly. Cas is almost impressed when the man barely coughs. “If he doesn’t want to, he doesn’t have to. Just leaves more for us.”

Cas’ shoulders sag in relief and he sends Balthazar a grateful look.

“Suit yourself,” Meg says as she reaches to take the joint back.

Cas shifts on his feet as he glances down to his cup. He’s been here an hour and still has the same beer he started with.

He shouldn’t have come.

Meg takes her hit and passes what's left back to Balthazar before hooking her arm around Castiel’s. “If you’re not gonna smoke with us, will you at least dance?” She asks at the same time she plucks Cas’ beer from his hands and takes a long swig. “Jesus, Clarence,” She says around a scowl. “That still your first?”

Cas nods and swallows hard. This is it. This is where they tell him to get lost.

Instead, Meg hums thoughtfully. “So, not a drinker. Won’t smoke pot. What’s your poison? Something harder?” She says suggestively before breaking out in giggles. “Get it? Harder!?” She repeats, vaguely reaching for Cas’ crotch.

Cas takes a quick step away and stares at her wide-eyed.

“Sorry, sorry,” she says, waving her hands in front of her as she fights to contain her laughter.

Cas swallows hard. “I should go.”

Meg immediately reaches for him and wraps her slight fingers around his forearm to tug him closer. “No, no. I’m sorry,” She says, forcing herself to be serious. “Please stay.”

He hesitates, long enough for Balthazar to sling an arm over Cas’ shoulders. “Yeah, come on Cassie, stay.”

Cas stares at their earnest expressions as he wages an internal debate. “Fine, just a little longer,” He says, conceding. He’s never going to make friends if he runs away at every opportunity. He’ll give this another hour before he sneaks away.

At least he’ll be able to say he tried.

Meg grins and steps closer at the same time Balthazar releases him. She hooks her elbow with Cas’ and tugs him along. “Come on, there's some people you need to meet,” she says, all too happily.

Cas allows himself to be led along like a puppet. He’s introduced to so many people that he has no hope of remembering their names even five minutes later.

He is content to let Meg do the talking.

Somewhere along the way, she picks up another joint and drags Cas to the sofa in the living room of Balthazar’s house and pushes him down before she flops next to him with a heavy sigh. “You okay?” She asks as she fights with her lighter.

“Fine,” Cas says as he picks at a phantom thread on his jeans.

Meg finally gets the joint lit and takes a deep pull. The rotten skunk smell invades Cas’ nostrils and refuses to leave. “You sure you don’t want some?” She asks, coughing all the while, and holds the joint out to Cas.

Cas lifts a hand to silently say no and shakes his head dismissively.

Meg shrugs and takes another hit.

He would be worried about how much she’s been drinking and smoking, but that isn’t his place. He learned a long time ago that nagging gets him nothing but trouble.

“Hey pretty lady, I got you a drink,” A man Cas hasn’t seen before leans over the back of the couch to place a cup in Meg’s hand. The guy is slim and blond, average, but Cas still bristles when he turns his head to wink as Meg takes an immediate sip.

“Mmmm, punch. Thanks man!” Meg turns to the man and grins widely before he smiles at her and walks away.

Cas stares after him with narrowed eyes, bothered that he doesn’t remember seeing him when Meg was dragging him around the party. “Meg, do you know him?”

Meg takes another deep drink and shakes her head. “Never seen him, but he’s kinda cute,” She says with a grin.

Cas tries to ignore the feeling of _wrong_ , blaming it on his sobriety in a house full of drunk and high college students. Meg is busy recounting what she calls his “glorious” outburst in class and how she was so sure that Adler’s head was going to explode when Cas stood up to him, toe to toe.

Cas laughs good-naturedly and shakes his head. Looking back, Adler’s reaction was something to remember. Cas only hopes the man doesn’t make good on his promise to fail him. Maybe he should go to office hours and apologize.

Meg finishes the joint and the punch, her words becoming more slurred and her body more relaxed. “Anyone ever tell you that you’ve got the mos’ beautiful eyes,” She says as she turns her head to look up at Cas with a dreamy expression.

Cas gives a nervous laugh and shakes his head. “Can’t say they have.”

That’s a lie. He’s been told something similar before. His mother’s ex said his eyes were too pretty to belong to a boy the night before he came into Cas’ room and tried to...

No. He will not let himself travel down that road.

Nothing happened. He fought back until Naomi stepped up and clobbered the bastard. As far as he allows himself to remember, that was the end of it. He refuses to dwell on how he felt for so long after.

“Mmmm, they should have,” Meg purrs and lifts a hand to trace along Cas’ jaw. “So handsome, Clarence.”

“Meg,” Cas warns as he gently catches her hand in his and forces her touch away.

She remains undeterred as she pulls back just enough to set her empty cup on the floor. For as drunk as she is, she moves fast. She swings a leg over Cas’ lap and rests her hands on his shoulders, pulling him close the same time he grabs at her hips to push her off.

“Meg!” Cas says, loud enough to catch the attention of other party-goers. Meg sways and nearly topples, his fingers have to dig into her hips harder than he intends to keep her from falling.

His heart races as she nearly loses balance, but she doesn’t seem to mind. Her hands find his jawline and before he can properly push her away, she’s pressing her lips to his.

Cas rears his head back but Meg follows. “Meg, stop! No!” Cas says, panic edging in on his tone.

She leans back, eyes glazed over as if she’s in a daze. “No?” She says, her voice small and uncertain.

“No.” Cas shakes his head but careful to keep the disgust roiling in his gut out of his tone. “Meg, I’m sorry if I misled you…but I’m not interested in that.”

Cas’ stomach clenches with his apology. He shouldn’t have to apologize. But, she’s drunk and high. She might not even quite realize what she’s doing.

“You’re not?” She asks, brown eyes going wide and scared with the obvious rejection.

Cas shakes his head. “No, I’m gay and you’re drunk.” He levels her with a stern look that has her scrubbing her hands over her face.

“Shit. I’m sorry, I’m so sorry,” She says, leaning forward to bury her face in the crook of his neck.

Cas fights ever impulse to just shove her off, but something about the way she slumps, and trembles has him holding back. “Meg? Are you okay?” He asks, relaxing his grip on her hips to rest a hand between her shoulder blades.

His instincts scream that something is wrong here. A faint sheen of sweat covers her body and he can feel through his hand on her back how shallow her breathing has become.

“Stomach hurts,” She says, voice muffled by Cas’ shirt.

“Meg, sit up for me,” Cas says, purposefully keeping his tone light. “Did you take anything other than the weed and beer? Any drugs?” He narrows his eyes as he studies her expression.

She obeys his direction readily with glazed over eyes and her expression is dazed as she sways unsteadily on his lap, so much so that Cas’ worry increases ten-fold.

Meg shakes her head lazily. “Noooo,” She says, barely coherent. “Jus…smoke…”

“Shit,” Cas says, more to himself than to Meg. His time dealing Uriel’s shit in high school has made him all too aware of the effects of certain drugs and his heart races now, seeing the symptoms in this innocent girl. “Meg, I think you’re sick. I’m going to call the hospital, ok?”

He’s already digging through his pocket for his phone when she slumps back against his chest. “No, stay here with you,” Meg mumbles and shakes her head with her face buried in the crook of Cas’ neck.

He ignores the way his skin prickles and crawls at this too close touch and lets her nuzzle him as he holds her tight to his chest while he fumbles with his phone. The angle is awkward but if he’s right, he can’t leave her alone right now. His thoughts stumble back to the blond-haired young stranger who brought her that drink. He finds the cup with his foot and tucks it between his ankles.

If she was drugged, he suspects that cup is the source. It’s evidence.

Meg groans and snuggles in, not bothering to fight his tight grip as he punches in 911 with one hand. “You’re gonna be okay, Meg. I’ll keep you safe.”

“Hello? Yes. I, uh, I think someone slipped my friend GHB. She’s pretty out of it, I’m worried,” Cas says quickly when the operator answers the phone. “Yeah, we’re at a party,” Cas rattles off the parts of the address that he can remember. “Thank you.” He lets out a deep breath when the operator says they’re sending an ambulance and instructs him to not let anyone else near her.

“Balthazar!” Cas calls out when he sees his host at the edge of the room. Balthazar raises a curious brow but comes closer when Cas waves to him.

“Someone slipped Meg a date rape drug, I’m sure of it.” He gestures to the nearly unconscious girl still on his lap.

“Oh, hell no!” Balthazar says and Meg flinches from the venom in his tone.

“I called an ambulance, but I think the guy who gave her this cup is the culprit. She had been drinking my beer all night until this.” He points to the cup held tightly between his feet.

“I’m gonna kill that bastard. What’d he look like?” Balthazar all but growls. He’s clearly drunk, but Cas still appreciates his outrage.

Cas gives Balthazar the man’s description and makes him promise to only look until the police come.

Minutes pass and Anna rushes in to help bring Meg outside at Balthazar’s request. At this point Meg’s heart rate is slow and her breathing too shallow for comfort. Cas’ hand tremble as he scoops her up into a bridal carry to get her away from the party.

Other students stop their revelry and stare while Cas glares at each and every one of them who doesn’t at least offer to help.

By the time the ambulance comes, Cas has been sitting on the front step with Meg sandwiched between him and Anna for at least five minutes.

About the same time as the paramedics rush out of the ambulance and the police pull up, a commotion roars to life from the back of the house and several people run out the front door yelling about a fight.

Cas makes quick eye contact with the responding officers before the pair are bolting through the door to seek out the source of the mayhem. The paramedics take Meg from him and strap her to a gurney before checking her pulse and blood pressure. A lot of technical terms are thrown around before they turn to Cas and ask for more information.

He tells them what he suspects, that someone gave her GHB, but he neglects to mention how he was able to recognize the symptoms so quickly. No one needs to know his history and the measures he resorted to in order to keep paying the rent.

Cas wrings his hands as he watches the medics load Meg into the back of their bus but further commotion from inside the house draws his attention.

The police are leading out two men in handcuffs.

“Balthazar!” Anna says when she sees that her friend is one of those in cuffs.

“This the bastard, Cassie?” Balthazar says, glaring at the other man.

The man has blood streaked over his chin from the split on his lip and the skin around one eye is darkening with a bruise, but Cas is certain that is the man. “Yes,” Cas says, swallowing hard. “Anna, the cup.” He gestures toward the red solo cup that Meg drank from.

“We think this is the cup the drugs were in,” Anna says meekly as she holds the cup out.

“Just a moment, Miss,” The officer gestures to the suspect as he guides him to his patrol car. He loads the man in the back before slipping on a glove and taking the cup from Anna. “I’m going to need statements from both of you,” He says firmly, eyeing both Cas and Anna.

“Yes, sir,” Cas says, swallowing hard as he forces himself to stand firm. He’s torn between heading the hospital to make sure Meg is okay and heading home to hide from all of this. Talking to the cops was not something he had imagined when he started his day.

Anna parrots his response, the unease clear in her voice as her gaze darts between the two officers and the patrol car that Balthazar was thrown into. “Balthazar, he didn’t…he was just trying to…” She says, voice stammering as she wrings her hands nervously.

“Protocol says we have to take him in, he’ll be released in the morning,” One officer says, lowering his voice as he speaks. “Now, which of you would like to give your statement first?”

Cas volunteers, Anna wasn’t there for most of it anyway. He tells the police everything and blames his recognition of the symptoms on his drug addict mother. A knife twists in his gut at the lie but he can’t very well admit to the police that he once dealt the very drugs that could have found Meg in a terrible situation.

Even as it is, he doesn’t miss the flicker of suspicion that crosses the officer’s features at the mention of his history.

“I don’t understand, why Meg? She was with me all night, not alone.” He shakes his head, finally voicing the questing that’s been plaguing him since Meg first started showing signs of being drugged.

“It’s hard to answer that.” One of the cops says and Cas gets the distinct feeling there is something that the man isn’t saying.

He answers a few more questions and then waits for Anna before the police drive away with Balthazar and the man who slipped Meg the drugs. By then, the party has disappeared, and the only people left behind are Balthazar’s roommates.

“Can I walk you home?” Cas asks Anna, feeling like he ought to at least offer. He has a long walk himself, and he has no idea where she lives.

Anna shakes her head with her arms folded over her chest. “I live just there,” She says with a nod across the street. “I’ll be fine.” She smiles weakly and Cas nods.

“Good,” He says, staring off in the distance. Tomorrow, he’ll go visit Meg and see how she is. There isn’t anything else he can do for her right now. “See you in class Monday?”

Anna nods. “I’m glad you came tonight,” She says, barely meeting his eyes. “I don’t know what might have happened...”

Cas sucks in a breath through his nose and lets it out slowly. “I’m going to head home. You sure you’ll be okay?”

Anna nods again. “I’m fine.” Her smile is a little more convincing this time and then she turns and walks across the street.

Cas stands and watches her go, waiting until she’s safely closed her front door behind her before he begins his hike home.

\---

_Castiel had been surprised and skeptical when Dean had told him that he was hired to help build the new amphitheater. Not only was the project a monumental undertaking, but Dean has no experience with building anything, let alone something made with an unmeasurable amount of stone._

_Dean is one of the smartest people Cas knows. Of this, he has no doubts._

_Only, Dean’s intelligence isn’t obvious to most people. He’s cool and calculating with an uncanny ability to envision how something should work without ever putting his hands on it._

_He’s a genius._

_But a foreman?_

_Cas had doubts._

_Doubts that he had been intelligent enough to keep to himself._

_And now, standing just outside the area where Dean is working, Castiel is grateful to the gods that he had been wrong._

_From Castiel’s vantage point, watching his love direct the building slaves with his chin held high, Dean is glorious._

_Dean had begun several months ago, working underneath one of the foremen as a grunt worker. His status as a freedman meant he was suited for little more than slave labor, but his intelligence had quickly caught the attention of one of the architects._

_Dean’s ability to adapt to change and the way he can see what others cannot have earned him a place higher than his station should have allowed._

_He was made a foreman and now directs a crew of a dozen slaves._

_In the beginning, Dean had hated turning into a master. The chains of servitude still scar both his body and his mind but Castiel had convinced Dean that this is an opportunity._

_An opportunity to give those slaves the measure of respect they deserve as human beings._

_Dean may not have the power to free them, but while they answer to his call, he has the power to treat them as men ought to be treated._

_For a slave, that is an invaluable gift._

_“May I help you, sir?” A man Castiel has not yet met interrupts his reverie. He wears the clean tunic of a man too important to do any manual labor himself, an architect, Castiel assumes._

_“I have only come to observe,” Castiel says simply, not wishing for conversation._

_“You look familiar, have you been here before?” The architect persists and Cas lets out a heavy sigh._

_“I am an orator for the Senate, you have probably seen me speak.” Castiel has people recognize his all the time. If not by his appearance, then by his voice._

_The man nods with a calculating look on his face. “You wouldn’t happen to be Dean’s patron, would you?”_

_Cas lets his eyes slide closed and he prays for patience. “I am.”_

_“He does good work. How long has he been with you?” The man continues and Cas does not like the direction this conversation is going._

_“He served my family throughout our childhoods.” Cas folds his arms over his chest and arches a brow toward the man, making it clear that conversation is not welcome._

_The man nods again, seemingly satisfied with that answer. “So, you grew up together.”_

_Cas lets out a heavy breath through his nose. “We did. Dean was like a brother to me growing up, a brother who was treated terribly unfairly. I could not abide his further mistreatment.”_

_The man continues to nod, and Cas thinks that may be the only expression of agreement the man can muster. “Sounds to me he was lucky to be with a family who recognizes his potential. Smart man, that Dean. Good worker.”_

_“I’m sure he appreciates your kind words,” Castiel says, trying not to turn his tone venomous. He appreciates hearing how well Dean is doing, the words fill him with pride to be a part of Dean’s life, but he has the suspicion that the man hasn’t bothered whispering a word to Dean about his work._

_“Aye, lights up like a peacock and then looks ashamed every time. Like he thinks he don’t deserve to be proud. Been tryin to convince him otherwise, but ex-slaves can be like that.” The man finally has something of substance to say and Cas turns to him with surprise written over his features._

_Cas gives the man a small smile and shakes his head. “I have that same difficulty with him. Dean has so much to be proud of, and yet he treats pride as an unforgivable vice.” Cas shrugs and turns back to watch the way Dean’s muscles bulge and shift each time he helps heft the heavy travertine stone into place._

_Dean truly is a sight to admire._

_Dean turns away from the sun, wiping the sweat from his brow with a wide grin when he takes notice of Castiel. His grin brightens as he waves to Cas and several of the slaves turn to look at the source of Dean’s distraction._

_Cas smiles broadly and returns Dean’s wave. He wishes he could cross the space separating him and draw Dean into a messy kiss. People be damned._

_He hates having to hide their relationship._

_“Yep, good man that Dean.” The architect comments with another nod._

_“He’s the best man I know,” Cas says, still watching Dean closely._

_Dean turns to give the slaves a direction and then starts walking toward Cas. His steps quicken, eventually he reaches a near jog. Cas watches his progress with a smile that only begins to dim when he sees another man, possibly another foreman, stomping toward Dean with clear malice in his posture._

_Cas barely restrains himself when he watches the man grab at Dean’s arm and halt his progress. Dean appears to have the situation well in hand though, so Cas holds his position._

_Dean and the stranger exchange heated words that have Cas chewing on his lip in nervousness._

_“Awww, shit,” The architect says, still watching the scene unfold from beside Cas. “This is gonna be trouble,” He manages to say as he begins to walk quickly toward the mounting altercation and Cas follows wordlessly._

_They’re still too far away to make out what is being said when the man shoves at the center of Dean’s chest and Cas can see anger bloom over Dean’s features._

_“...no freedman should be in your position, boy,” The stranger snarls just as Cas comes into earshot._

_“If you weren’t such an idiot, this freedman wouldn’t be higher than you!” Dean spits back, dodging the man’s swinging fist. “You’re a moron, Jasper. Face it...” Dean starts but a solid fist connecting with his jaw silences him quick enough._

_He reels for a moment, just long enough for Jasper to give him a smug smile and pretend to dust off his tunic. “You gonna go home and bend over for your master?” Jasper sneers and Dean freezes, his expression going blank as his gaze sharpens._

_Cas’ feet halt of their own volition and he reaches to stop the architect as well. “Wait,” He says. Cas is all too familiar with Dean’s temper and he knows that Dean will not let this insult stand._

_Sure enough, Dean drops a shoulder and rushes forward, knocking Jasper to the ground before he throws himself on top of the stunned man. His tunic rides up, exposing his upper thigh, as he straddles the fallen man and Cas’ eyes immediately fixate on the excess of exposed skin._

_“I bend over for no one,” Dean says coldly, the anger within him swelling rapidly. “You think you’re a big man? Huh?” Dean growls as he draws his fist back and blood erupts from Jasper’s nose as Dean’s blow connects solidly._

_Jasper growls and shoves at Dean, but Dean places another well-placed blow against the side of the man’s throat and yet another at the center of his chest before Jasper can get in a solid hit. Dean’s knuckles viciously dig into the sensitive area of his breastbone and Jasper writhes in pain and wheezes below him._

_Cas watches Dean’s display of superior strength with wide eyes, his feeling of awe going south enough for arousal so spike deep in his stomach._

_Dean’s formally grey tunic is now stained with vibrant red, but he doesn’t seem to mind as he pushes himself to his feet, leaving his fallen foe to languish in the dirt. Dean spits on the man with a sneer. “Think twice before you pick a fight, douchebag. I’m more man than you’ll ever be.”_

_Dean wipes the blood off his face and doesn’t spare Jasper another glace. He continues toward Cas with a firm and angry set to his shoulders and Cas wants nothing more than to soothe him._

_“Are you alright?” Castiel asks, hands twitching at his sides as he resists the urge to wrap Dean in his arms and shield him from the world._

_Dean doesn’t need his protection here, though. Among the plebeian class, Dean can hold his own without fear of retribution._

_“Fine,” Dean bites. “I’ve just got one more area to see to today, then I’ll be home,” He says, softening his tone as he reigns in his temper._

_Dean’s chest heaves but his posture stiffens further when he finally notices the architect standing next to Castiel. “Sir, I apologize, I didn’t mean to...”_

_The architect holds up a silencing hand and shakes his head. “Jasper sought to inflame you; I am certain your patron will agree that you were merely defending yourself.”_

_Dean nods dumbly and Castiel quickly agrees._

_“Now, if you’ll excuse me, there is a mess to clean up,” the architect says as he nods toward where Jasper still lays on the ground. The front of his tunic is saturated with blood and he holds a hand against his breastbone gingerly._

_Cas turns his attention back to Dean with a wide smile. “Are you certain you’re alright?” He asks, knowing the dip in Dean’s shoulders means that he’s beginning to calm._

_Dean shakes out his hand, testing his fingers one by one before giving Cas a nod. “Might be sore later, but I’m fine,” Dean says, much more convincing this time._

_Cas leans forward to whisper. “Too sore to fuck me hard into the mattress tonight?” His warm breath tickles the shell of Dean’s ear and purposefully drops his voice into that low register that he knows drives Dean wild._

_Dean’s breath hitches and he grasps Cas wrist tightly within his unbruised hand. “I’d have to be dead before I could deny you that,” He says, too quiet for anyone to overhear._

_Cas draws back to proper distance and clears his throat. “I am glad to hear it.” He smiles before letting his tongue dart out to wet his lips, eyes watching Dean closely for his reaction._

_Dean draws in a shaky breath and purses his lips. “What’s gotten into you?” Dean asks, amusement coloring his tone._

_Cas shrugs and ducks his head shyly, buying himself to a moment to decide the right words. Finally, he smirks, “You’re just so strong, watching you throw that man around like he’s nothing…” He says, humming at the end with a shiver. He knows his words fall short, but the way Dean’s eyes darken is worth his lack of eloquence._

_“You like that?” Dean says, shaking his head._

_Cas nods vigorously._

_“I need a while longer,” Dean waves behind him absently._

_“I’ll be waiting,” Cas says with an amused smile._

_Dean shifts on his feet and lets out a huff of laughter. “You’re going to be the death of me.”_

_“Never.” Cas wants more than anything to reach out and touch, but he knows too many eyes are on them. Leaning close enough to whisper to Dean had been a questionable enough idea but sometimes, he can’t resist._

_“I need to get back to work,” Dean says, voice strained as his eyes continue to fixate on Cas’ lips._

_“Then go.” Cas shoos him away with a wide smile._

_Dean shakes his head as he turns and Cas is certain he hears a muttered “tease,” as Dean walk away._

_Cas makes the walk home with a contented smile. Dean is not only doing well with his job, he’s positively thriving, and Cas could not be prouder of him._

_Watching Dean’s physical display was only a bonus._

_He’s glad Lucius taught them both hand to hand combat. He’s glad that Dean can defend himself if he needs to. And it doesn’t help that the feral glint in Dean’s eye makes Cas quiver with want, needing to be on the receiving end of that look._

_He doesn’t know how long he has to wait until Dean comes home, but he decides he needs to be ready. The first thing he does is strip out of his cumbersome toga and change into one of the few simple tunics he keeps for wearing at home._

_“That’s better,” He sighs, rolling his newly freed shoulders and bending his knees. His toga is little more than a uniform and it is far too warm and heavy for the fall heat that still blankets the city._

_He quickly tends to the garden so Dean doesn’t have to later and then puts together a simple platter of meats, cheeses, and fresh fruit. The weather is still far too warm for a heavy meal, and he has other plans for their time._

_His household tasks complete, Cas slows down and takes his time preparing himself for Dean._

_The small amphora of oil is difficult to maneuver one-handed, so he pours a small amount into a bowl to make things easier._

_Another delightful thing about wearing a tunic is he can reach his most intimate parts without fully undressing._

_He begins with one finger, easily slipping the long digit inside himself with a heady moan as he imagines Dean walking in on him like this. One finger quickly becomes two and the angle becomes more awkward. With his knees pressed up and spread wide, he can reach well enough to ensure he’s ready for Dean but not well enough to give himself any real pleasure._

_Still, he gets himself as stretched as he can and by the time he’s finished, he’s wet and slippery enough to make him grimace when he tries to sit up._

_So, decides to strip off his tunic and wait spread out on the bed they share instead._

_Minutes tick by, Cas lightly tracing the outline of his hard cock to keep his arousal at a low simmer. Waiting._

_Eventually, the door rattles and Cas grins._

_He lifts his knees and spreads them once again as he reaches a hand down to toy at his entrance, waiting for Dean to find him._

_He doesn’t have to wait long._

_“Gods, Cas,” Dean says from the entrance to their bedroom._

_Cas meets Dean’s eyes with a shy smile. “I told you I’d be waiting for you,” He says, tone dipping low and rough._

_“Get up,” Dean says, tone turning into something firmer. An order._

_Cas hurries to comply and is soon standing nude before Dean._

_“You wanted me to walk in on you?” Dean says, tone hard enough to make Cas shiver. Dean splays a possessive hand across Cas’ stomach and pulls him back until Dean has him pressed against his groin. “You want me to be rough with you?” He asks, his question genuine._

_“Please, Dean,” Cas says, his voice smaller than usual._

_Dean wraps his arm across Cas’ chest and squeezes him lightly before shoving him away._

_Cas stumbles and his heart races as his cock twitches against his thigh. He turns to face Dean, raising his chin defiantly despite the way his stomach flutters and his eyes beg Dean for more._

_Dean stalks toward him and Cas stands his ground, preparing to launch a mock defense._

_Dean grabs his wrist and twists, forcing Cas around before he has a chance to react. His grip only loosens when Cas lets out a garbled cry of almost pain and Dean pushes him toward the bed._

_Cas resists, only to draw out Dean’s strength and Dean takes his bait with a growl._

_Cas finds himself shoved onto the bed, Dean crawling atop of him and pinning him to the mattress before he can launch a defense. Cas’ brain has traveled too far south to form a proper plan anyway._

_“Deeeaaannn,” Cas says into the mattress when Dean pressed hard at the base of his neck, holding him down. He can feel Dean moving behind him, clumsily undressing before the blunt head of Dean’s cock is pressing against his entrance._

_Cas wiggles his hips and lifts his ass to allow Dean easier access._

_Dean lets out an appreciate hum when he spreads Cas’ cheeks with his free hand, finding him wet and ready before he shoves his hard cock inside roughly._

_Cas keens and Dean grunts when he bottoms out in a single thrust._

_“This what you want, Cas? Want me to take you like I own you?” Dean growls as he pulls back and snaps his hips forward at just the right angle._

_Cas cries out, unable to find words as searing pleasure rips through his body. The heat coiled low in his stomach threatens to explode as Dean continues to hold him down, fucking in and out of him relentlessly before grinding against his prostate._

_Dean’s grip on Cas’ neck shifts and is joined by his other hand until Cas’ shoulders are being pressed into the mattress while the rest of him is held down by Dean’s solid weight._

_For as strong as he is, Dean is stronger. Cas couldn’t move even if he wanted to._

_“Dean!” Cas shouts when the blunt edges of Dean’s teeth scrape against the back of his neck, pressing just hard enough to be on the right side of pain. Dean knows every single one of the ways to drive Cas to the brink of orgasm and he isn’t holding back._

_“Come on, Cas,” Dean says, panting, as he continues his brutal pace. The sound of skin smacking against skin fills the room along with their breathy moans and Cas’ low grunts each time Dean’s cock connects with his sweet spot. “Come for me.”_

_Cas’ entire body shudders at Dean’s command and his trapped cock is more than happy to obey. He comes with an overwhelmed cry as Dean continues glide in and out of him, his pace quickening and cock still prodding against Cas’ prostate with every thrust._

_“Dean,” Cas whines, pressing his ass back as much as he can to meet Dean’s thrusts, his spent cock twitching with each drag against the bed._

_Dean clamps his teeth down firmly on the back of Cas neck and he shouts through his self-imposed gag as he comes hard inside Cas. He circles his hips, grinding against Cas’ ass as his cock spurts and Cas hums in satisfaction._

_Cas feels thoroughly claimed and owned as he goes limp beneath Dean with a happy sigh. Dean releases his neck, kissing away the sting left behind from his teeth, and Cas turns his head back as far as he can to meet Dean in a poorly aimed kiss._

_Dean blankets him for a moment, both of them catching their breath and letting their racing hearts calm. Eventually, Dean rolls off Cas to lay flat on his back. “You okay?” Dean asks, his voice barely more than a croak as he pries one eye open enough to study Cas’ expression._

_“Perfect,” Cas says as he gives Dean a sleepy smile._

_They stare at each other long enough to lose track of time. Somewhere along the way, their fingers tangle over Dean’s belly and Cas begins to drift sleepily._

_“Cas? I’m hungry,” Dean says, breaking the silence and Cas peels an eye open to glare._

_“Of course, you are,” He says, pretending to grumble in annoyance._

_“Hey, I worked hard today,” Dean says, clearly holding back a laugh._

_“Hmm, hard,” Cas says, and Dean’s laugh erupts from deep in his stomach, jostling their hands._

_“Goof.” Dean shakes his head and pulls his hand back to swat at Cas’ shoulder. Cas throws his head back in a laugh as Dean pries himself from their bed and offers Cas a hand. “Come on, let’s find something to eat, then we can go back to bed.”_

_Cas nods through his yawn. “I made a platter before you got home.”_

_Dean’s smile widens as he stares warmly at Cas. “I love you,” He says fondly, and he tugs at Cas’ messy hair playfully._

_Cas laughs and catches Dean’s wrist before he can make his hair even messier and draws Dean into a gentle kiss that leaves them both humming in satisfaction. “I love you too.”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning clarification: No assault comes of the date rape drug, but if this is a touchy subject and you would prefer to skip it...read freely until a stranger hands Meg a cup of punch and Cas asks if she knows the guy. That will be your cue to skip. Resume when the text switches to italics to signify a dream.


	11. Twenty: Continued

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cas becomes closer with Meg and Gabriel drags Cas to a strip club. What could go wrong? Meanwhile, Dean takes ill and Cas is left with few options.

“Come on, Clarence. You’ve been daydreaming since we sat down,” Meg says from across the table and Cas blinks at her owlishly.

Since the incident at the party last fall, Meg has decided that Castiel needs to be part of their little circle of friends.

Honestly, Cas doesn’t mind.

Especially since Balthazar’s father is the Dean of the History department and did Castiel the favor of dealing with Adler.

His grade in Adler’s class was dismal, but he passed. Now, Cas never need deal with that foul blowhard again.

“Sorry, just thinking about my research application,” Cas says with a wave of his hand. His lunch has grown cold in front of him, the soggy French fries no longer hold any appeal, so he pushes his plate away and turns his full attention to Meg.

Meg nods before snagging the straw sticking out of her soda with her lips and taking a long drink. “Ah, that’s right. For after graduation, right?”

Cas nods. His application has been burning a hole in the back of his mind, taunting him with the July deadline still four months away. A yearlong research trip to study and excavate ancient Herculaneum, beginning a month after his graduation next year, is everything he could possibly want.

He needs his application to be perfect.

“You’ve got time, don’t let it get to you,” Meg says easily, slouching back in her chair. “Are you going to the sentencing with me?” She asks, tone much softer now and much more cautious.

After the party, she had spent a full day in the hospital. The police were able to connect three other assaults to Brady, the man who gave Meg the tainted punch.

Turns out, he preyed on young women who were with men that he suspected would turn tail and run if the women showed interest toward them. He slipped them the GHB infused drink and waited until the drug took effect.

The instant the girls were rejected and abandoned by the man they were with, Brady would swoop in and take advantage of them, leaving them to not remember how they ended up in a strange place without their clothes.

Brady was found guilty in February and his sentencing reserved for right after Spring Break. Which they’re just arriving back from.

Cas nods. “Of course.” He sat with Meg through the trial, even testified himself since he was a witness. All throughout, Meg had regarded him with questions burning in her gaze.

“You never did say how you knew,” Meg says, finally beginning to voice something that Cas has known would come eventually.

He shrugs. “I paid attention in health class,” He says, reaching for one of his abandoned fries. It tastes as awful as he expected but it keeps his mouth occupied for a moment.

“Still.” Meg folds her arms over his chest and dips her chin to glare up at him through her lashes.

“I was sober, Meg. It’s amazing what you see when everyone else is drunk.” Cas folds his arms to mirror her pose and her glare intensifies.

“I don’t buy that,” She says, finally unfolding her arms to snag one of Cas’ fries.

Cas sighs and his shoulders deflate as he shakes his head.  Damn her for being so determined.  “Promise to keep this just between us?” He asks, leaning forward so he doesn’t have to speak as loud.

Meg nods. “I promise.”

Cas frowns and takes a moment to collect himself. “My mom…she.” He pauses to take another deep breath. “She died of a drug overdose just before I turned eighteen. Growing up with a drug addict, well…”

“Oh my god,” Meg says, skeptical gaze turning to pity faster than Cas is comfortable with. “No wonder you didn’t want to smoke.” She shakes her head and covers her mouth with her hand. “I never stopped to think, dealing with all this...” She trails off and closes her eyes as if the motion pains her. “Are you okay?”

When she opens her eyes, he sees guilt, not pity or anger. She’s genuinely concerned for him and he isn’t certain how to respond to that.

Cas cocks his head with a shrug. “I’m fine.” He told her the truth, but not the right truth. His mother never bothered with date rape drugs. Why would she? It seems his explanation is enough though because Meg is still staring at him with wide eyes.

“That must have sucked,” She says, finally schooling her expression into something more normal.

Cas huffs. “Yeah, that’s a word for it.”

And just like that, they’re off onto a different topic. Something loosens in Cas’ chest as Meg starts talking about her classes this semester. As quickly as it had appeared, her pity disappears and is replaced with quiet understanding.

For that, he’s grateful. Someone outside of Rufus, Chuck, and Gabriel knows one his most closely guarded secrets and she doesn’t seem to care.

For the first time, he feels like he has friends his own age. Other than Dean, of course. He’s beginning to quite like the feeling.

Meg continues to flirt, although not as openly now that she knows he isn’t interested. He’s come to think of her sultry nature as part of her charm. Balthazar is loud, boisterous and generally obnoxious, but he’s a good friend when needs to be. He wasn’t charged for breaking Brady’s nose and pinning him to the ground until the police arrived. Balt’s attorney declared he enacted his right to make a citizen’s arrest and the prosecutor agreed without protest.

Anna is the hardest to get to know. She’s like a moth dancing around Balthazar’s flame. Always there, but quiet and unobtrusive. Cas thinks Balthazar treats her like a little sister, but he also thinks Anna would be interested in far more if Balthazar would open his eyes.

He parts ways after lunch with Meg, intending to work on his application a bit more and seek out the textbooks he’ll need this semester. He spent part of the break w orking w ith Chuck and fishing with Rufus, but mostly he stayed in his little apartment in Gainesville.

Being in Punta Gorda was like slipping back into a skin that no longer fits.

Chuck had been right, he needed to get out there.

He wiles the day away and makes absolutely no progress on his research application.

His trouble is, he doesn’t know exactly what position he wants to apply for. He isn’t a student of archeology, and archeologists are mostly what the research team is looking for.

He’ll take whatever position they would give him, but he can’t exactly go begging to the head of the research team. He needs to look desirable.

After a dinner of pan-seared Red Snapper from his freezer cache, he leaves home to meet with Gabriel for drinks. As usual, the address he finds himself at is full of the bright neon lights that always cover the front of strip clubs. He hasn’t had the heart to tell the man that women simply don’t interest him.

They’re appealing to look at, sure. But from purely an aesthetic point of view. They’re graceful as they dance and the gentle curves and smooth lines of their bodies can be hypnotic, but Cas has never felt even a hint of arousal watching them.

Still, that doesn’t stop Gabriel from dragging him to strip club after strip club in search of the perfect place.

He had never imagined that this would have become what they do when he reconnected with Gabe last fall.

He approaches the door with a sigh, not even bothering to look at the signs advertising the night’s entertainment.

“Cassie!” Gabriel calls and Cas turns with a fond smile.

Gabe has his heart in the right place, and Cas quite likes spending time with him.

Tonight, Gabriel is wearing tight black jeans and a loose silver shirt that reveals a little too much of his chest. His hair is slicked back, and Cas rolls his eyes when Gabe rakes his gaze over Cas with a frown.

“You’re wearing blue jeans?” Gabe asks, shaking his head  in disappointment .

Cas shrugs. Yeah, he’s wearing loose and comfortable clothes. He isn’t interested in finding someone to take home, so why should he put in the effort of dressing differently?

“Eh, whatever. You're going to love this place!” Gabriel drops the subject and slings an arm over Cas’ shoulders. “I thought we’d try something different tonight.”

“Gabe, you know I don’t...” Cas starts but Gabriel cuts him off.

“You don’t want to do anything but watch, I get it. But I thought you might like a change of scenery,” Gabe says as he waves to the doorman and drags Cas inside.

Cas still hasn’t figured out how Gabriel gets them in everywhere without paying cover.

Cas finally takes a look around after they step through the threshold and are surrounded by thumping music so loud that Cas can feel it deep in his chest.

“It’s theme night!” Gabe shouts, grinning up at Castiel.

Cas watches the scene around him with wide and horrified eyes. People in makeshift togas that reveal far too much skin gyrate around him as men in imitation legionary armor shimmy to the beat in large cages. “Is this a gay club?” He says, almost needing to shout to be heard.

“You’re not a big fan of the girls, so I thought maybe...was I right?” Gabe says with a grin and Cas can’t help but love his misguided friend just a little bit more.

“Yeah,” Cas says with a huff and shakes his head. “I’m gay, I think.”  His words are distracted as he continues to take in the scene around him.

“You think?” Gabe asks, head tilted to the side. “Don’t tell me...No! You’re not a virgin, are you?!”

Cas is not entirely certain Gabe hasn’t already had a few drinks and he covers his face with his palm. Considering the sex life he has with Dean, he most certainly doesn’t  _ feel _  like a virgin but how can he explain that to someone who doesn’t know anything about his dreams?  “Can we not talk about this?” Cas says, still needing to almost shout so his voice carries enough for Gabriel to hear.

Gabe nods in acceptance and gives Cas a wink. “Greek night!” Gabriel shouts and Cas feels his mouth go dry as his attention returns to the scene around him.

This is wrong. This is all wrong. He closes his eyes tightly and wills down the urge to turn on his heel and walk out of here. “Gabe, this is awful,” Cas finally says, trying to keep his tone soft.

A very tall and very glittery man takes the stage, the spotlights shine green and blue on his body and Cas’ heart lodges in his throat.

The man is well built, the Centurion armor leaving little to the imagination as his muscles bulge and flex  when he  begins a slow dance across the stage. His back is to the crowd, but the firm set of his shoulders  and slightly bowed legs  has Cas’ breath coming in too shallow of bursts.

The armor is all plastic, made for Halloween, but Cas’ attention is rapt as the man pulls off his vibrant red cape and twirls it behind him.

“You sure? You seem to like the Captain over there?” Gabe says cheekily and Cas spares him a quick scowl.

“This isn’t Greek!” Cas exclaims as he forces his gaze away from the man who looks a little too much like someone else.

“Does it matter? Gabe says and Castiel gapes. “I’m getting us some drinks, just watch the pretty boys.” Gabe winks and then suddenly he’s disappeared through the crowd.

Cas lets out a heavy breath and shakes his head. The Centurion on stage has managed to strip off his plastic armor, leaving him in his fishnet chainmail and skimpy skirt that Cas thinks is intended to look like the  pteryges that would have protected his groin in battle.

There is no way those thin strips of cloth are going to protect  _ anything. _

The tanned skin of the man’s ass peeks through the strips of cloth around his waist as he rolls his hips. The longer Cas watches, the more he shoves down his initial distaste and the more he imagines seeing Dean like this.

The man would be breathtaking.

Not on a stage for the world to see, but in their private room at home, carefree and happy.

He lets himself dwell on his fantasy for a moment, until Gabriel is at his arm once more and pushing a bright purple drink into his hands. “What’s this?” He shouts so he can be heard. The test tube in his hand looks like it could begin to glow at any moment, and he eyes it with distrust.

“Purple Nurple,” Gabe answers before downing his in one smooth motion. He nods for Cas to do the same. “Please, Cassie, just one tonight and I’ll leave you alone. You gotta learn to loosen up, man!”

Cas sighs and shakes his head. Reminding Gabe that he doesn’t turn twenty-one for a few  week s still will do him no good. Besides, the rules don’t seem to apply when Gabe is around. He down the contents of the test tube with a grimace and hands the empty vessel back to Gabriel.

“Not so bad, was it?” Gabe says with a wide grin.

“You’re a terrible influence!” Cas says instead of admitting that the drink was actually pretty tasty. More sugar than booze, he certain, but not bad at all.

Gabe grins in response and sets the empty vials onto the tray of a passing server. “Wanna watch or do you want to dance?”

Cas’ breath catches at the way Gabe holds out his hand to him. He’s seen Gabe dance with women before, and if that grinding is what Gabe has in mind then he can count Castiel out.

“Not like that!” Gabe pulls his hand back abruptly as if he can read Castiel’s mind. “Like them!” Gabe points to a group of people simply bobbing to the beat together with their hands in the air and out to the side. Their faces are bright and happy as they spin and laugh.

Nothing sexual about them at all. Thank goodness.

“I can’t dance,” Cas says, projecting his voice above the music and the crowd. His eyes drift back to the man on stage, sometime in the last minutes, he’s been joined by two others and their hands roam over each other’s bare chests and stomachs.

Cas feels his stomach clench in response to their chiseled physiques.

“Alright, you watch. I’ll dance.” Gabe pats his shoulder and heads to the dance floor before Cas can respond, so he doesn’t try.

He simply returns his focus to the scene on stage.

The men ha ve  discarded their armor and are now down to only wearing G-strings that leave nothing to the imagination. They bump and grind against each other as they show off for the audience and Cas can barely stand to watch anymore.

A pit grows in his stomach the longer this goes on. He feels dirty for the low spike of arousal in his gut as if he’s betraying Dean simply by enjoying the smooth and erotic dance the men on stage are engaging in.

The thump of the music drowns out his hammering heart as he turns away, determined to find Gabriel to tell him he’s leaving.

“Well hello handsome, care for a dance?” A man, just slightly taller than Castiel, interrupts his escape attempt. His golden hair and doe-like brown eyes have Cas narrowing his own. He’s dressed in a short toga that barely covers his ass and leaves half his chest exposed, his firm muscles on full display, gleaming with oil under the lights of the club.

“No, thank you,” Cas says with a frown, still searching for Gabriel despite his path being blocked.

“That’s a shame, I’d love to feel you underneath me. I could give you a discount, say twenty for a song?” The guy stops Cas with a sensuous hand on his chest, the touch feather-light but enough to leave Cas standing frozen.

“No.” Cas shakes his head. “I, I  don’t want , my boyfriend  wouldn’t …” Cas doesn’t know what else to say. The thought of this stranger touching him, trying to arouse him is too much to bear.

The man smiles warmly at him and lightly pats his chest twice before dropping his hand. “I understand sugar. Can’t blame a guy for tryin though, an Angel like you…” The man bites his lip and shakes his head with a disappointed little groan.

“I, uh, I gotta go,” Cas says in a rush, his determination to leave this place returning ten-fold. He shuffles around the  dancer  and pushes through the crowd toward the dance floor, leaving the stage behind him.

“Balthazar?” Cas stops suddenly and his heart skips a beat when he takes in the sight of his friend on the dance floor, sandwiched between a lithe young man and someone Cas can’t quite tell the gender of. They seem to be a balanced mix between masculine and feminine, so much so that neither of the standard genders seem to apply.

Whoever they are, they’re beautiful in  their androgyny . 

Cas’ eyes widen when the man wraps his slim fingers around the nape of Balthazar’s neck and draws him into a deep kiss in the middle of the dance floor. Cas is pretty sure he’s incapable of breathing as he watches Balthazar’s hands travel down the man’s body and over his hips before drifting forward to cup his groin.

Balthazar breaks away from the languid kiss and spins in his partners’ arms to draw the other person in. They kiss so deeply that Castiel aches as he watches, the scene far more erotic tha n  anything he saw on stage.

Just  as  Cas resolve s  to turn away, feeling even dirtier than before for spying on his friend, Balthazar lifts his gaze and looks directly at him with a smirk.

“Hey there, Cassie,” Balthazar calls from across the dance floor, breaking away from his partners with a quick promise to return. “Fancy seeing you here.” Balthazar rakes his gaze over Castiel as if weighing him.

“I, uh,” Cas stammers, not knowing what to say. “I didn’t know you were bi?” He winces as soon as the words leave his mouth. For as eloquent as his dream self can be, he feels like a complete dunce at the moment.

Balthazar smirks and Cas can feel the man’s eye roll down to his bones. “Who said I was?” He shrugs and tilts his head as Cas’ cheeks flush hot.

Cas drops his gaze, worried now that Balthazar is going to deny that kissing another man means anything. He wishes he could just melt into the sticky floor beneath his feet.

A gentle hand nudges Cas’ chin, encouraging him to look up. Cas follows Balthazar’s guidance hesitantly and it takes all his willpower to not look away when Balt’s calm eyes bore into Castiel’s.

Balthazar leans forward and touches his lips to  Castiel’s  so lightly that Cas isn’t certain they  have  made contact at all until Balthazar presses forward and cups a hand at the back of  Castiel’s  neck  to deepen the kiss . Cas stands frozen as Balthazar  moves his lips against his own , the faint scrape of stubble igniting a fierce longing deep in Cas’ gut. For a moment, Cas can almost pretend that Dean is kissing him, and he finds his lips moving against Balthazar’s ever so gently.

Eventually, Balthazar pulls back with a teasing smirk. “Why would I limit myself to certain genders when the world is full of beautiful people?” Balthazar says and Cas chews on his lower lip, stomach doing somersaults.

Cas stares for a moment, more shocked by the kiss than Balthazar’s question. For some reason, Balthazar makes perfect sense. “Sounds like you’re lucky then,” Cas says, raising his voice loud enough to ensure Balthazar hears him. Really, he is. Cas almost wishes he could feel true attraction to someone, anyone, other than the man who exists only in his dreams.

“Wanna join us?” Balthazar arches a brow as he gestures to the couple behind them who are now steady grinding against one another. His words sound like an offer, but the tense smile shows that he already knows Cas is going to decline.

Cas clears his throat with a cough and shakes his head. “Sorry, I’m not interested,” He says, assuming honesty is for the best.

“You’re hung up on someone.” Balthazar point at the center of his chest. “A nd  I’m gonna figure out who.”

Cas barks a laugh and shakes his head. “Good luck with that.” Cas has no intention of ever mentioning Dean or his dreams.

“See ya around Cassie, don’t have too much fun,” Balthazar says with a wink and he turns back to the rest of his trio as if he had never left.

Cas watches fondly for a moment, gently touching his lips with his fingertips. He needs to get out of here.

He finds Gabe wrapped around a girl who had come with a bachelorette party and takes his leave. Gabe tries to get him to stay for a moment, but he gives in quickly. Cas is sure that Gabe can sense something is off, but he’s a friend enough not to comment.

The bus ride home is tedious, and when he’s finally tumbling into bed around two in the morning, he can’t help but hope that Dean is waiting for him on the other side.

_ \--- _

_ “A sickness?” Cas asks, hating the smug look on Bernardo’s face. Dean has been coughing a lot lately. He’s insisted he’s fine but the growing pit of dread in Castiel’s stomach says otherwise. _

_ “Yes. The Greeks call it the Phthisis. A condition of the lungs that is nearly always fatal,” Bernardo says with his usual pompous tone. “The disease has been tearing through the plebeian quarter like Vulcan’s flames.” _

_ A stone sinks in Cas’ stomach. He needs to go home. If Dean is sick... Cas could never bear losing him. Dean’s cough has been too persistent, and he hasn’t been sleeping well. _

_ “Your servant was coughing only yesterday, was he not?” Bernardo asks rhetorically. “I do hope that he isn’t falling ill.” Bernardo feigns concern, placing his finger on his chin to tap as if deep in thought. _

_ Castiel _ _  knows that any kind words Bernardo might put forth are onl _ _ y mocking _ _. “Thank you for your concern, but I am certain that Dean will be well shortly. He merely has a cold,” Cas says flatly, glaring at Bernardo as he speaks. “I have business to attend to. Have a pleasant day, Bernardo.” _

_ Cas turns and walks away before the man can get in another word. He has no interest in hearing anything Bernardo has to say anyway. _

_ “Castiel?” Inias says just as Cas tries to slip out the door to the Curia unnoticed. _

_ He stops, back turned to the Senator and takes a deep breath to calm his fraying nerved before he spins on his heel with a wide smile. “Senator,” He says, dipping his chin respectfully. _

_ “Is something wrong, Castiel?” Inias asks, head tilted slightly as he rakes his gaze over Cas. _

_ Cas sucks in air through his nose and brightens his smile. “Nothing at all, I merely have business to attend to at home if I may have your leave.” _

_ Inias’ expression shifts and Castiel knows he hasn’t fooled the man. His blue eyes soften with genuine concern that makes Cas feel a little bit bad for lying to him. “Of course.” Inias waves a dismissive hand. He steps forward while Cas stands frozen to the spot. _

_ Inias rests a hand on the side of Castiel’s shoulder, a friendly touch that Cas takes a small measure of comfort in. He wishes so profusely that he could afford to be honest with Inias. _

_ “Thank you,” Cas says quietly. “I shall return tomorrow. I am certain that Bernardo will not find taking my place for the day to be a hardship.” _

_ Inias laughs bitterly and shakes his head. “I have faith he will not. Take care, my friend, I sense something is troubling you.” _

_ Cas bites his lip and drops his gaze the same time Inias drops his hand. “Thank you.” He doesn’t bother denying Inias’ observation. _

_ He hurries home, preemptive worry consuming him until his thoughts cycle on repeat with only one word. _

_ Dean. _

_ “Dean?” Cas calls out when he pushes through their door and pulls the heavy slab of wood closed behind him. He hurries through their small villa, searching all of Dean’s usual spots. _

_ “Dean,” He whispers when he finally finds him, buried under the blankets of their bed despite the warmth in the room. _

_ Dean shifts sleepily and stretches his arms high over his head when Cas approaches. He looks exhausted, which isn’t surprising considering how little sleep his cough has allowed him. _

_ Dean smiles up at him and gestures for Cas to come closer. _

_ Never being one to deny the man, Cas steps forward and leans closer so that Dean can surge up to draw him into a deep kiss. _

_ “You’re feeling better?” Cas asks when he pulls away. He studies Dean carefully, noting the grey pallor to his skin and the way his eyes appear slightly sunken. _

_ “I’m fine?” Dean says as if he’s unsure of the answer. _

_ Cas runs his fingers through Dean’s hair and finds the fine strands to be damp with sweat. Almost as if Cas’ touch triggered another fit, Dean pulls himself to lean over the side of the bed with a heaving cough. _

_ Cas’ eyes blow wide and his heart lodges in his throat when Dean eventually calms and draws his hand away from his mouth. Bright crimson stains his fair skin and Dean turns to him with horror written in his glassy eyes. _

_ “I’m going to fetch a doctor,” Cas says, not know _ _ ing _ _  what else to do. Dean is not well. This is more than mild sickness. _

_ “No,” Dean says, bottom lip turning out in a pout. Dean shivers violently and he falls back onto the bed. “I’ll be fine.” _

_ Cas shakes his head.  _ _ “Dean, you’re sick. Coughing up blood!” Cas is ready to beg and he gathers Dean’s hands in his own. He feels powerless, even more so than when they were boys. “Please, a doctor might be able to help.” _

_ “No doctor.” Dean shakes his head and groans. _

_ Cas clenches his jaw in frustration before sighing in resignation. “Fine. For now. If you get any worse though, I’m calling one. I don’t care what you say.” _

_ Dean nods weakly and Cas makes his decision. He won’t seek out a doctor yet, but Lucius is more skilled in medicine than any Roman doctor Cas has ever met. He’s going to write to his father and request advice from the Greek slave who helped raise both he and Dean. _

_ He only hopes will parents will allow such a thing. _

_ “I love you, Dean,” Cas mutters as he runs his fingers through Dean’s hair as the man drifts to sleep once again. He sends silent prayers to all the gods who might be inclined to listen. _

_ If this is the Phthisis, Dean is in grave danger and Cas cannot afford to lose the one person he would sacrifice everything for. _

_ \--- _

_ Days later,  _ _ Castiel _ _  is on the rostrum delivering the latest news to the people of Rome _ _  with dread coiled tightly in his gut _ _. Emperor Vespasian survived another assassination attempt and the conspirators are to be cast from the Tarpeian Rock at dawn. _ _  More importantly, Dean’s condition continues to worsen. _

_ He takes a moment to gather himself, preparing to deliver the news about the new taxes the Emperor expects to collect to fund the empire’s expansion northward. His wording needs to be delicate, lest he incidentally spark massive protests when the Plebeians are asked to give even more. _

_ He can see anger flitting across several faces in the crowd as he speaks, but he also sees a large amount of resignation and acceptance. No one cries out in outrage. _

_ He considers himself successful as he finishes his speech and stares out over the crowd until his heart nearly seizes in his chest when his gaze lands on a familiar face. _

_ Lucius _ _. _

_ Cas’ breath hitches when he sees the faint but proud smile on the older slave _ _ ’ _ _ s face and his eyes widen when he takes in his father standing shoulder to shoulder with Lucius. _

_ Cas smiles broadly, he can’t stop himself, and he quickly dismounts the rostrum and makes his way through the crowd. _

_ “Father,” He says as he opens his arms to draw the man into a tight hug. “I did not expect you to come.” _

_ “Your letter sounded quite urgent.” Felix claps Cas on the back before releasing him to greet Lucius. _

_ “It is good to see you, young Master,” Lucius says softly with a smile. Cas disregards propriety and throws his arms around the man as well. Lucius laughs fondly and gently pats Castiel on the back. _

_ “I assumed it would be best to seek you here before barging in on Dean,” Felix says, not unkindly. _

_ Cas nods and swallows hard but remains silent. _

_ “Has his condition improved?” Lucius asks, scanning the wide and crowded space behind them. _

_ Cas frowns and shakes his head. “No.” He lets out a shaky breath before he continues. “He is still coughing up blood and has been unable to get out of bed for several days now.” He notices the quizzical look from Senator Valarius from across the courtyard and gives him a firm nod to assure him that all is well. _

_ The Senator replies in kind and turns to get Inias’ attention. Cas lets out a sigh and shakes his head. He had been hoping to slip out without gaining anyone’s attention. _

_ “Coughing out vital fluids is not a good sign. How long since he first began to show symptoms?” Lucius asks, oblivious to the silent interaction between Cas and the Senators. _

_ Cas thinks back on the last few weeks. “He began to act unlike himself nearly two weeks ago.” Lucius signals him to explain and Cas closes his eyes to remember the first signs that something was wrong. He can’t very well say that Dean was too tired for sex, not in front of his father. “He was of ill humor in the beginning as well as listless and uninterested in eating. He has lost some weight, and his cough has persisted for a week now,” Cas recites Dean’s symptoms as he watches Inias approach. _

_ “Senator  _ _ Inias _ _ , it would please me greatly to introduce you to my father, Felix Porcius _ _  of Ercolano _ _ ,”  _ _ Castiel _ _  says. “Father, this is  _ _ Inias _ __ _ Caelinus _ _ , Senator of Rome.” _

_ “It is a pleasure to meet you, sir,” Inias says, dipping his chin toward Castiel’s father. “Your son is a great asset to the Senate.” _

_ “Thank you, Senator, I am honored by your words,” Felix responds, and Cas barely refrains from tapping his foot. _

_ He can hear the pride in his father’s voice, but he is far too worried about Dean to suffer through these pleasantries. _

_ “Castiel, how is Dean?” Inias asks and Cas swears for the millionth time that Inias is a mind reader. “I have not seen him of late.” _

_ “Dean is ill,” Cas says. “That is why my father and our servant Lucius have come to Rome. Lucius is a skilled healer.” _

_ Inias brings a hand to his chest. “I will not keep you then. Please, give Dean my best wishes for a rapid recovery.” _

_ “Thank you, Inias,” Castiel says, knowing how the man appreciates the use of his name rather than his title. _

_ “It was a pleasure to meet you, Senator,” Felix says with a faint smile. _

_ “Likewise.” Inias agrees. “Lucius, is it?” He asks, turning to the older man. _

_ “Yes, Senator,” Lucius says softly, eyes trained downward as expected of a slave. _

_ “You needn’t avert your gaze, good man. I prefer not to stand on ceremony.”  _ _ Inias _ _  waits for Lucius to meet his eyes and smiles when the man finally does. “I understand that Dean is quite dear to Castiel, I pray the Gods to grant you  _ _ good _ _  fortune to treat him successfully.” _

_ “Thank you, Senator,” Lucius says, gaze full of respect and pride as he gives Inias a soft smile. _

_ Cas nods, relieved and glad for all the ways that Inias is not a traditional _ _  man _ _. The Senator may seem to hold an odd fixation for him, but he cannot deny that man’s heart seems to be genuine. _

_ “Castiel.” Inias stops Cas as he turns to walk away. “If you need anything, if Dean needs anything, you need only ask.” _

_ Cas frowns but nods. “Thank you,” He says simply before gesturing to his father and Lucius to continue. _

_ The walk home feels as if it lasts an eternity, each step brings him closer to Dean and closer to Lucius examining him. _

_ Deep in his gut, Castiel knows that Dean is very ill. He may not survive if he has contracted the phthisis and Cas cannot bear the thought. _

_ Dean must survive. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know, an odd midweek chapter but I've hit a struggle spot with a Viking era Dean/Cas story I'm working on and needed to change gears for a bit. That story is giving me fits trying not to have their falling in love look like Stockholm syndrome. I needed a break, so you get this. I'm not sorry.
> 
> As always, I treasure your feedback.


	12. Twenty Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean recovers from his illness but they face another problem in the form of Castiel's competition. Secrets are revealed and drastic measure must be considered in order to keep Dean safe. Meanwhile, Cas has a birthday that needs celebrating.

_Dean’s recovery was slow. He came so close to death that Castiel still swears he nearly saw Dean’s spirit lift from his body. And yet, the gods showed their favor and granted him life._

_Lucius says Dean’s lungs will never be the same._

_He will bear the scars of his disease for the rest of his life, but neither Cas nor Dean cares about that._

_They’re together. That is all that matters to Castiel._

_Inias had been kind enough to lend them the use of his seaside villa in Ostia and arranged for Castiel to take a leave of absence from his position. Weeks away from the city did them both good and while Dean’s condition slowly improved, Castiel spent long hours speaking with Lucius about life in Greece and how he came to be a slave in the Roman empire._

_These were not the simple conversations they had when Cas was a child, Lucius no longer held back the brutal details of his past and the shame still felt for his actions after so many years. Lucius sees his servitude as penance for his crimes, and Castiel cannot see the man Lucius claims he was through the man he has always been to Cas._

_The fresh and salt-filled air was reminiscent of their youth, and along with Lucius’ quiet presence, Castiel is certain the comfort drawn from such familiarity is what led to Dean’s recovery._

_But that was months ago now._

_Many have claimed the gods must favor Castiel for keeping him from contracting Dean’s illness. The disease has spread like wildfire through the city, seemingly indifferent to social class or standing. Even a small number of the Senate have fallen ill, and few have been fortunate enough to recover._

_Dean has been well enough to venture out on his own for weeks now, though Castiel still seizes in worry every time his lingering cough makes itself known._

_Which is why Castiel is fuming this morning on his way to the Curia. He needs to speak with Inias and Valarius. Immediately._

_If suspicion has been cast upon Dean, then surely Bernardo will not waste time in levying the same accusations against Castiel._

_“Senators, I hoped I may have a word,” Castiel says, stopping just short of where he finds Inias and Valarius discussing one matter or another with a small audience._

_Inias is the first to turn, expression open and honest. “Of course, Castiel. How may I be of service?”_

_Valarius is slower to acknowledge Castiel, but when he finally turns to face him, Cas can see the stern glare already forming. He may respect Castiel’s work and ability, but the man is no doubt traditional._

_“Castiel,” Senator Valarius says with a frown. “How is your servant after yesterdays...unfortunate business,” He says as if the words of concern taste foul on his tongue._

_“Dean is recovering, I am certain he will appreciate your concern.” Castiel tries not to be defensive, repeating in his mind that Valarius put an end to Bernardo’s attack. “He thanks you for your intervention.”_

_Inias’ tilts his head slightly and furrows his brow, framing his eyes in fine lines that leave hints as to his age despite his usual youthful appearance. “Did something happen that I am unaware of?”_

_Valarius huffs a laugh and shakes his head. “Your spies cannot see all that happens in the city, my friend,” He says flatly but with a hint of amusement causing the corners of his lips to quirk upward._

_Inias lets out an indignant huff and turns back to Castiel. “Tell me what happened.” His words are as much demand as they are a request. He holds his chin high, but Cas can still see the flicker of genuine concern in his features._

_Cas lets out a heavy breath and gathers his thoughts. “Dean was attacked in the market yesterday by none other than my competitor, Bernardo. I do not wish to repeat his accusations against Dean, though I can assure both of you that they are false.”_

_Cas holds his chin high, determined to bluff his way through his lie. If he is to protect Dean, he must absolve them both of suspicion. Denying their relationship is the only way to accomplish that._

_“Come now, Castiel. There is no need to defend the boy’s honor. He is unharmed, no wrong has been committed,” Valarius says, his already judgmental gaze narrows as he regards Castiel._

_Cas can feel his anger flash hot through him and his hands ball into fists. “The ‘boy’ as you so callously describe him, is a citizen of Rome and deserves to be defended from false accusations.”_

_“Calm yourself, Castiel.” Inias holds up a hand that demands compliance as he shoots a glare toward Valarius. “All citizens of Rome are deserving of protection from unsubstantiated rumors, regardless of their status within our society.”_

_Valarius rolls his eyes, in clear disagreement but uninterested in continuing this conversation. “Do as you will, Inias, I care little for the fate one freedman.”_

_Cas all but growls and his fists clench painfully. How dare someone speak of Dean that way!?_

_“Castiel,” Inias stops him with a hand planted firmly in the center of Cas’ chest. “Walk with me.”_

_Cas sucks in a harsh breath through his nose and glares at Valarius with as much venom as he can muster before allowing Inias to lead him away._

_“The news you bring is quite troubling,” Inias says and Cas still doesn’t trust himself to speak. “I have suspected for some time that Bernardo sought to cause you trouble, I imagine he had hoped your Dean would perish with his illness.”_

_Cas clenches his jaw and turns his glare toward Inias. “He is my friend, nothing more,” Cas grates, barely trusting his voice._

_Inias gives him a half-smile and shrugs. “Maybe so. But, for the record of our friendship, it would not trouble me in the slightest if you and Dean were...more.”_

_Cas frowns and swallows hard, slowly digesting Inias’ words._

_“I know it is none of my business,” Inias holds up a placating hand with a fond smile that has Cas frowning harder. “But I have long wondered about the two of you.” Inias shakes his head and lets out a small huff of later. “Regardless, Bernardo is a growing problem that we need to monitor. What would you like to do about him?”_

_Cas sighs and shakes his head. “What can I do other than deny his accusations? An insult to him is an insult to my family, who raised him. More than that, Dean should not need to live in fear of being attacked.”_

_Inias nods thoughtfully. “We will make it known then, that for you as Dean’s patron, any insult to him will not be tolerated. Your family honor is inscrutable and shall remain so.”_

_Castiel nods his agreement and presses his lips into a firm line before letting out a heavy sigh. “How?”_

_“Leave that to me, my friend.” Inias places a hand on Castiel’s shoulder and gives him a conspiratorial wink._

_Cas feels Inias’ easy declaration of friendship like a punch in the gut. What has he ever done to garner such favor from this man? From the very beginning, Inias has declared himself Castiel’s friend and acted as nothing less. “I do not understand why you’ve taken such an interest in me,” Cas says, finally putting his voice to the words that have been simmering in the back of his mind for two years now._

_Inias gives him a soft smile. “I see much of my younger self in you. You are loyal, selfless and kind to a fault. Virtues I wish I had retained through life’s bitter disappointments.”_

_Cas tilts his head quizzically. Inias is loyal and honest from what he has seen. He would not have attained his position were he not. “You are an honorable man, Inias.”_

_Inias lets out a huff of disagreement and shakes his head before looking around to ensure their privacy. “I was the one to unmask Emperor Vitellius. General Vespasian trusted me to root the Emperor out of hiding and I played my part flawlessly. I delivered him to the Gemonian Stairs myself.”_

_Cas sucks in a harsh breath. He had suspected as much, but to hear Inias confirm his ideas in such simple language is far different than wondering to himself. “I’m certain you did what was just,” Cas says._

_Vitellius was cruel and gluttonous. Surely, he would have seen Rome to the same end as Nero had before him. “I believe the empire was served well by your actions.” Castiel steps forward and rests a comforting hand in Inias’ shoulder, mimicking the action the man has taken so many times with him._

_Inias’ features remain troubled, but he forces a small smile. “I am glad for your acceptance, but that is not the only blood on my hands, nor will it be the last. I may be a Senator, but I am still very much a warrior of the Empire.”_

_Castiel is at a loss for words, a rare thing for a man in his position. But this is not work. This is a friend who, for reasons he cannot fathom, has decided to both confide in him and defend him._

_If Cas is honest with himself, the blood Inias claims to be on his hand is unsettling. If he didn’t need the man’s help, Cas would likely hold him at a safer distance. However, Dean’s safety might rely on him putting his trust in Inias’ abilities._

_“We do what we must to survive this world. Often, the path is lined with burdens that mere mortals were never meant to bear. You are a good man, Inias, I am certain the gods can see that as clearly as I,” Castiel says carefully despite the way his heart patters in his chest._

_Inias gives Cas a half-smile and nods. “You should return to Dean. I will do what I can to quell the rumors Bernardo has instigated. Rest assured, if any further harm comes to you or Dean, Bernardo will not have a third opportunity._

_Cas sucks in a breath and nods. “Dean was more concerned for me than himself, but I cannot see him harmed.”_

_“I understand. Now, go.” Inias gives Cas a firm nod and turns away. He takes long and confident strides back toward the forum._

_The Senate is due to move meeting locations for the next several sessions, Cas will be relying on messengers to relay the information he needs to broadcast to the public._

_He likely will not see Inias for several weeks._

_He takes the long way home, mulling over his thoughts in hopes of explaining to Dean the actions he has taken._

_Cas is certain that Inias knows the relationship between him and Dean extends far deeper than simple friendship. He knows, and he is unbothered by their relationship. Inias has often remarked how he shall never take a wife, but his words regarding Castiel’s own relationship makes him wonder if perhaps Inias prefers the company of men as well._

_He only wishes he knew how to ask._

_“Dean?” Castiel calls as soon as he steps through their door._

_“Back here, Cas!” Dean says, his voice drifting from the farthest recess of their small villa._

_Cas smiles as he makes his way through the rooms of their home to the small garden hidden at the back. The roof disappears as he steps into the fragrant space. Springtime in Rome is magical, rivaled only by the myriad of honeysuckle blooms that line the streets in Ercolano. “Dean,” Cas says as the man turns his bright gaze toward him._

_Dean rises from where he’s crouched, his hands caked with earth from the Oleanders he is adding to their small assortment of plants. “Cas.” Dean smiles as he leans forward to receive his kiss. “You’re early.”_

_“I spoke with Senator Inias about Bernardo’s attack.” Cas decides not to mention Valarius’ inflammatory remarks._

_“Cas,” Dean says, pulling away with a scowl. “I thought we talked about that. I don’t want to cause you trouble.”_

_Cas sighs and shakes his head. “Protecting you, protecting us, will never be trouble, mi carissime.” He pulls Dean closer and runs a finger lightly over Dean’s temple. Dean’s eyes slide closed as he leans into Castiel’s touch. “An attack on you is an attack on me. On our family. I will not stand for it.”_

_Cas can feel Dean mustering a protest and he slowly guides his finger to rest over Dean’s lips, silently asking for quiet. “You are my family, Dean. My everything. I doubt you remember through the fever, but my father declared that you are now a son of his.”_

_Dean sucks in a harsh breath and pulls back with wide eyes. “I thought that was a dream.” He shakes his head in disbelief as his gaze pleads with Castiel to tell him that his words are true._

_Cas smiles fondly and opens his arms to beckon Dean to return. “You did not dream his declaration, my love.”_

_Dean steps into Cas’ arms readily and they hold each other tightly. “Then what are you going to do?”_

_Cas nods against Dean’s shoulder. His question is fair. “I am going to make it clear that there is nothing to gain by tarnishing your name. For your name is mine, and mine is yours. If Bernardo wishes to attack my position, he will need to approach me directly. Not take cheap shots at our personal life.”_

_“Promise me you’ll be careful,” Dean says, as he wraps his arms around Castiel tighter._

_“I promise,” Cas whispers before planting a promise of a kiss to the center of Dean’s brow. “We haven’t come this far only to let someone destroy us.”_

_\---_

_*_ Three Weeks Later*

Cas got his acceptance letter for the internship in Ercolano right before Christmas. Since then, his stomach has been a riotous bundle of nerves every time he dares to consider his upcoming trip.

His plane tickets are bought, and he’s just received final confirmation from Chuck about where they will be staying while they’re there. He and Chuck will be sharing a small apartment in modern Herculaneum, not far from the archeological site, in a block that mostly houses people visiting for research purposes.

They will be arriving well into high tourist season, but Cas doesn’t mind.

Herculaneum isn’t nearly as busy as most other sites.

Now, with graduation looming only days away, his stomach roils with uneasy excitement and fear. This opportunity is everything to him. He cannot imagine a better plan for after graduation than to spend a year studying the place he’s already been dreaming of his entire life.

He’s certain that going there will be his best chance to find Dean. Where else would he have a better chance of finding the love of his life than the place they’re both drawn to?

At least, Castiel hopes Dean is drawn there. He hopes the Chuck is right and Dean is out there somewhere in the world having the same dreams as he is. He refuses to let himself consider the chance that Dean might not exist at all.

He has plans with Meg, Balthazar, and Anna for later, so he forces himself to close his computer and take a shower. This is the last week of the semester, finals week, but his exam schedule was incredibly light, and he’s already finished.

He takes a moment to feel the heady rush of knowing that he’s finished college. Well, undergrad at least. He’s given thought to applying for graduate school after his internship, but he’s hesitant to commit to anything.

He would hate to have to cancel plans if he meets Dean and his path takes him elsewhere.

He hums to himself as he strips his sleep clothes off, mind mulling over his dreams. Something needs to be done about Bernardo, but his dream self is too reluctant to take the drastic measures Cas is certain will be needed.

Power-hungry people will not stop until they’re forcibly stopped.

And in Ancient Rome, there is only one sure way to accomplish that goal.

He accepts that Dean’s reputation means little to society, no matter how much the thought pains him, but he doesn’t trust that Bernardo will stop at ruining Dean.

No, once Dean is officially labeled as Infamia there will be nothing to stop fingers being pointed at Castiel as well.

He needs to protect both of them but he’s powerless to do so in his dreams. While he’s asleep, he has no memory of who he is now. He truly feels like he’s traveling through time each night and returning only with memories.

The hot spray of the shower helps his mind turn another direction and the memory of Dean’s warm hands on his skin have him sliding his eyes closed and reaching for his cock. “Dean,” Cas says to no one with a pleading edge to his tone as he leans his forehead against the cool tile of the shower stall.

His fingers wrap loosely around his swelling erection, refusing to rush as he imagines Dean sinking to his knees in front of him. Green eyes look up at him, water beading on his lashes and training down his cheeks as he smiles. Cas moans and shudders, the thought causing his cock to twitch and leak.

Cas tightens his grip, slowly stroking as he pictures Dean’s plush lips parting wide and the very tip of his tongue peeking out to touch the very tip of Cas’ swollen cock. Cas gasps as Dean sinks down and the tight heat of his mouth enveloping his cock proves to be just this side of too much.

Cas gasps and moans Dean’s name as he strips his cock faster and squeezes tighter. The images in his mind spur him on almost as much as his touch and soon the raging fire burning low in his belly begins to push forward, hotter and hotter until his eyes are clenched tightly closed.

“Dean!” He cries as the pressure crests and his cock begins to spurt rope after rope of come against the wall. Cas slows his movement, trying to cling to Dean’s image just a little bit longer as his heart begins to slow.

The mess he made quickly disappears with the rushing water and he’s left trembling, heart-aching fiercely with the feeling he can only describe as homesickness.

What he wouldn’t give to open his eyes and see Dean smiling up at him or for his ears to hear Dean’s voice, low and rough after having Cas’ cock in his mouth for so long.

He finishes washing in a hurry with a foul taste in his mouth. “I’ve got to quit doing that,” He says to himself as he shakes his head. No matter how he tries, he always feels an overwhelming sense of guilt when he touches himself while imaging being with Dean.

The trouble is, the Dean in his dreams feels like a memory. Someone he knew and should know, but the modern version Dean is out there somewhere and he’s a complete stranger. Picturing this Dean in his mind is far too easy, but he feels like a pervert imagining someone who might not even know he exists.

Cas dries himself off with his towel and throws on the first pair of jeans he finds. The well-faded denim hangs low on his hips, his inability to gain weight and fill them out has been plaguing him since childhood. Although, his problem now has more to do with his habit of running than lack of food.

He digs through his meticulously organized closet to find a shirt that is casual yet nice. They’re only going out for dinner and drinks, Anna is celebrating her twenty-second birthday, so naturally, they need to celebrate.

Thankfully, Anna wants her birthday to be a much smaller affair than Meg had.

Cas had actually drunk himself into oblivion that night and subsequently swore he would never drink again. The headache that plagued him the next day made him wish for death and his nausea was even worse.

He shakes off the memory of Meg’s party with a grimace and slips a dark blue button-up over his shoulders and carefully tucks it into his jeans once the buttons are fastened.

He barely bothers with his hair. Taming the wild mess atop his head seems only possible by keeping his dark locks miserably short. He likes being able to fun his fingers through his hair despite the mess his nervous habit makes, so it stays just this side of too long.

Meg and Anna seem to like his look that Meg has dubbed “just fucked” so Cas just goes with it.

The restaurant they’re going to is only a few blocks from his apartment, so he doesn’t bother with the bus or his car. The walk goes quickly, and the weather hasn’t gotten too hot yet.

“Anna,” Cas says with a smile when he pushes through the door of the restaurant. Her long red hair hangs loose, and her lips are painted bright red. “Happy birthday,” He draws her in for a light hug.

“Thank you, Castiel,” She says with an easy smile and mischief in her eyes. “They have a table ready; would you like to sit?”

“Of course,” Cas says, returning her smile as he gestures for her to lead the way.

“Meg and Balthazar texted, they’ll be here soon.” Anna settles into booth and gestures for Cas to sit next to her.

Cas and Anna chat idly for a while, talking about the end of semester rush that kept their little group from spending much time together lately. Anna was accepted for the same research trip and they fly out for Naples together in three weeks.

Three weeks! Cas can hardly believe it.

“Happy Birthday!” Meg says, loud enough to make the other patrons of the restaurant turn and look. Cas smiles and Anna grins as Meg saunters up to their table and takes a seat.

“Meg,” Cas says by way of greeting as she settles across from him and immediately hooks her ankle with his under the table. Cas settles into the touch; the borderline too friendly way Meg treats him is something that he has come to find grounding.

Meg calls him touch starved and the way he soaks up every casual touch like a cat basking in a ray of sunshine leads Cas to not argue with her.  Arguing with Meg is pointless anyway.

“Cassie!” Gabriel calls and Cas’ eyes widen comically as he takes in Gabe and Balthazar walking toward their table with a myriad of bright balloons. Gabe snags a chair and sets it at the end of the table as Balthazar slides into the booth next to Meg with the balloons directly in the center of the table.

“Gabe?” Cas is confused. So very confused.

His confusion only deepens when Balthazar pulls one of those paper noisemakers that blow out at you like a buzzing tongue and blares it directly in Castiel’s face.

Anna laughs before pulling out her previously hidden noisemaker and giving it a blow.

“Happy Birthday Clarence!” Meg cheers and throws a handful of confetti that has the wait staff glaring at her.

“Wha...” Cas looks to each of his friends, wide-eyed and amazed.

He hadn’t told anyone his birthday was last week.

“Meg told us,” Balthazar answers Castiel’s unspoken question.

Meg nods. “Yep. Snuck a peek at your license and saw that you clearly weren’t going to tell any of us, so...”

Anna giggles and nods happily before giving her noisemaker one more tweet. “We decided to combine our birthdays.”

“You didn’t think you were going to get out a party that easily, did you?” Balthazar asks with an arched brow.

Cas gapes at all four of them. “But...Gabe?” None of his explains how Gabriel is here.

Gabe huffs a laugh. “Your friend here tracked me down,” Gabe says before leaning forward. “Although, I think he might have the wrong idea about us...”

Cas looks between Gabe and Balthazar with narrowed eyes, not quite understanding Gabriel’s insinuation.

Balthazar wags his brows and smirks. “I told you I’d find whoever you were pining after.”

Cas sucks in a harsh breath and shakes his head vehemently. “No! Gabe isn’t, I don’t...NO!”

Gabe bursts into a deep belly laugh and claps Cas on the shoulder. “Cassie is so not my type.”

Balthazar narrows his eyes and shakes his head. “Seriously? I thought I was on to something here! A mysterious older man that you were keeping from us...” Balthazar accuses. “Who is he, Cassie? Come on, you can tell us.”

Cas shakes his head and bites his lip. “Not a chance.”

He can’t tell them about Dean. Telling them about Dean means they’ll want to meet him, and that can’t happen for obvious reasons.

He isn’t about to paint himself as crazy by admitting he’s in love with someone he’s only dreamed about.

“Come on, we’re your best friends,” Meg whines, leaning back in the booth with a pout.

Gabe arches a brow. “I’ve been curious about that myself,” He says, eyeing Cas with interest.

“You’re always so quiet, Cas. We just want to see you happy,” Anna says as she lays a gentle hand on Cas’ forearm where it rests on the table.

Cas lets out a heavy breath and shakes his head. “I can’t...” His shoulders slump in defeat. He can’t tell them, and he doesn’t know how to make them understand that.

“Ugh, fine,” Balthazar grouses as he folds his arms over his chest and rolls his eyes, pretending that Cas keeping his love life secret is a terrible inconvenience to his otherwise very busy schedule. “Keep your secrets. I’m sure he’s terribly boring anyway.”

Gabe pulls out another noisemaker and blows it noisily in Cas’ face, drawing laughter from the rest of the table. “Is there going to be cake? I was promised cake.” He sends a pointed look to Balthazar before arching a brow at Castiel.

Cas huffs a laugh and shakes his head. “You are such a sugar fiend.”

Gabe grins widely. “You know me too well.”

“Well, if you won’t tell us about this mystery man you’re hung up on, we might as well celebrate,” Meg says as she reaches with her foot to playfully kick at Cas’ shins. The reach is harder now that she’s slid against the wall to make room for Balthazar, but she still manages.

Gabriel meshes well with their group, despite being twice their age. They laugh, drink, and simply have fun until the restaurant kicks them out at closing time and then meander back to Balthazar’s for more drinks and merriment.

Cas paces himself well enough, but he still ends up stretched out on Balthazar’s couch with an arm wrapped around Meg, her back pressed tightly against his front after Gabriel and Anna both leave, and Balthazar climbs the stairs to his room. A smile plays on his lips as they settle in and he begins to float in an alcohol-induced haze. “Thank you, Meg,” Cas says into her dark, strawberry-scented hair.

“Don’t drool on me,” She grumbles back, clearly already well on her way to falling asleep.

Cas huffs and laugh and lets his eyes slide closed. This was his best birthday yet. He’s almost glad his best friend is an insufferable snoop.

\---

_Spring blooms in Rome, the myriad of fresh flowers and greenery perfume the city and create an intoxicating aroma that could make a fool of a man if he were to stop and scent the air for too long._

_Cas, however, pays little attention to the flowers as he paces the anteroom of their villa, waiting for Senator Inias and his partner to arrive._

_He’s nervous._

_And a little angry if he’s going to be honest._

_He’s known Inias for several years now, and the man couldn’t just tell him that the reason he held no interest in taking a wife was because he prefers the company of men? Does he not trust Castiel?_

_“Cas, you’re going to wear a hole in the floor,” Dean says warmly from where he leans against the doorframe of their bedroom. He steps forward and pulls the door to his room closed behind him. “Everything is ready, the garden is perfect.”_

_“I know,” Cas says as his shoulders deflate. He feels like a fool for being this anxious. Inias is a friend. He has nothing to worry about._

_Except, he has everything to worry about._

_He and Dean have never been open about their relationship with anyone except Lucius when Dean was sick._

_Yes, his parents know, but they’ve never_ seen _him and Dean as a couple._

_Now, a Senator of Rome is bringing his male lover over for dinner._

_Cas’ stomach clenches in terror. “Dean, I can’t do this,” Cas says as he clenches his eyes closed._

_Dean steps into his space quickly and rubs his hands up and down Cas’ arms. “You can.”_

_Cas shakes his head and whines. “We’re also going to discuss what to do about Bernardo. The three of us. Inias offered to help, but I know you don’t...”_

_Dean silences his rambling with a kiss. “Calm yourself, my love. Inias is only a friend.”_

_Cas shakes his head and wraps his arms around Dean. “He’s a Senator. He’s powerful, dangerous and we’re...we’re just us.”_

_Dean huffs a laugh and shakes his head as Cas buries his nose in the column of Dean’s throat. “Just us ain’t a half-bad thing to be, Cas,” Dean says as he runs his fingers through Cas’ hair and scritches lightly at the man’s scalp._

_Cas hums with satisfaction at Dean’s soothing touch. He could stay right here forever if he could, safe in Dean’s arms, but the firm knock on the door tells him that his time has expired._

_He pulls back from Dean and tries to shove down his panic. Inias has a way of making his heart race when they’re working, but here, in his home, he feels like his heart may explode._

_Dean chuckles and shakes his head. “I’ll let them in.”_

_Cas watches warily as Dean confidently steps toward the door and pulls the heavy wooden slab back. “Senator,” Dean says with a deep nod that almost resembles a bow._

_Cas wishes he was as calm as Dean seems._

_Inias steps through the door, closely followed by another man that Castiel is certain he’s never seen before. He appears younger than Inias, but not by any significant amount, with fair hair and blue eyes nearly as light. He also wears the tunic of the lower plebeian class and Cas’ head tilts as he considers, thinking back to every conversation he’s ever had with Inias._

_Cas forces a smile when Inias meets his eyes and he steps forward to greet his friend. “Welcome, Inias,” He grasps Inias’ wrist and Inias grasps his in greeting before Cas turns to face his other guest._

_“Castiel, this is my companion, Samandriel,” Inias says as he gently places a hand at the small of Samandriel’s back and guides him forward. “Samandriel, this is Castiel. I believe I’ve mentioned to you about him and Dean”_

_Samandriel smirks and rolls his eyes with a fond smile as he steps forward to greet Castiel. “He is far too modest; he speaks nearly nonstop of you.”_

_Inias flushes crimson and Dean steps to Cas’ side with a wide smile._

_“It is a pleasure to meet you,” Castiel says and then gestures Dean forward. “This is Dean, my partner in everything,” Castiel says and the smile Dean gives him nearly stops his heart._

_Samandriel smiles and takes Dean’s hand warmly. “There has been much talk about you as well, I regret I was not home when you were there.”_

_“Thank you,” Dean says with a heavy blush coloring his cheeks. “I wish my visit had been under better circumstances.” Dean turns toward Inias. “Thank you again for offering me shelter,” He says as he places his fist over his heart in gratitude._

_“Think nothing more of it. I trust you and Castiel would offer Samandriel the same safety,” Inias says, warily meeting Castiel’s eyes as if he knows of Cas’ annoyance with his reticence._

_Cas smiles sweetly and stares harshly at Inias. “Now that I know of him, I would be glad to offer Samandriel the entirety of protection that is ours to offer.”_

_Samandriel glances between the two men cautiously and Dean rolls his eyes._

_“Alright,” Dean says, a little too loudly. “Samandriel, would you care to join me in the garden? I believe Cas has words reserved for Inias that we need not be subjected to,” Dean says, sending Cas a pointed look as he quickly herds Samandriel from the room._

_“Yes, I believe that might be wise,” Inias says with a wince and Cas is now certain that the man holds some guilt over keeping this from him._

_Cas’ mouth presses into a firm line and Inias looks to the floor shyly as the two other men escape to the garden._

_Cas takes a deep breath once Dean disappears from sight and he turns toward his friend. “’Nias, why did you keep this from me?” Cas shortens the man’s name for the first time, and he’s caught by surprise at his familiarity. “You’ve known what Dean means to me since the very beginning, haven’t you?” Cas takes a slow step closer, not wanting to spook his friend. He isn’t angry, not anymore, but he wants to understand._

_Inias nods but doesn’t look up. “I have no real excuse, Castiel. Samandriel and I have been together since I achieved my first promotion in the military. He was one of the slaves under my command,” Inias says and then finally lifts his chin to meet Castiel’s eyes. His expression is wary and his gaze heavy._

_Cas’ shoulders slump with his sigh as he pinches the bridge of his nose. “Did you think I would reject your friendship?” That is the thought that has been sitting like a stone in Castiel’s stomach. “After all you’ve done for me, for us? Did you not trust me to keep your secrets as you’ve kept mine?”_

_Inias looks startled then and he shakes his head quickly. “In the beginning maybe I did not trust, but you have proved to be a good friend. A good listener no matter the riddles I may speak.”_

_Cas takes a step back and turns away as his fingers find their way into his hair. “Why did you tell Dean and not me?” The other question that has been plaguing him._

_Inias sighs and settles onto the low couch behind Castiel. “I did not plan to tell either of you, but when I heard the commotion in the street and saw Dean being pursued...you must understand, Castiel, Samandriel was not mine to take. Not mine to free.”_

_Cas shakes his head as he turns around to face his friend with wide eyes. “You stole him?” He cannot believe his friend would do such a thing, the danger Samandriel is forced to live with as a fugitive is unspeakable._

_Inias gives Cas a wry smile and a gentle shake of his head. “I did not. We were separated for a time after I was released from the army and became a senator. It pained me greatly to leave him behind, but I had no choice.” Inias stops to gather his thoughts with a fond smile that hints at a memory. “Three months later he arrived on my doorstep, a fugitive, wishing only to be with me. I could not bear to be apart from him again, Castiel. You must understand.”_

_Cas feels tears prickling at the corners of his eyes as he watches the anguish wash over his friend’s expression. “I would have done the same,” Cas says, knowing in his heart that he would have done anything to be with Dean._

_Even if that meant keeping Dean hidden._

_Relief floods Inias’ features as Cas settles onto the couch across from him. “I shall not betray your secret,” Cas promises. The hurdles he’s leaped to be with Dean pale in comparison to the struggles Inias and Samandriel have faced. Dean has always been his, in one form or another._

_In the military, Inias and Samandriel would have been executed had they been discovered._

_“Many thanks,” Inias says with a nod. “Shall we see what they have gotten up to? Samandriel can be quite the handful, I fear for your Dean,” Inias says with a playful glint in his eye as he pushes up from the couch._

_Cas huffs a laugh. “If that is the case, I fear more for ourselves than for Dean. He has a taste for mischief himself.” Cas rises and leads the way into the garden where they find Dean and Samandrial laughing heartily._

_Cas is almost afraid to ask them why._

_They eat, drink, and laugh together until twilight falls and the songs of the birds in the trees go quiet. Only then does Inias pull a slim vial from the folds of his toga and hands it to Castiel._

_“This is a serum distilled from the Oleander plant,” Inias says as Cas’ fingers close around the vial._

_Samandriel leans forward and covers Castiel’s hand with his own. “The poison is fast-acting, nearly tasteless. A few drops in Bernardo’s wine and he will never trouble anyone again.”_

_Dean’s breath catches as he watches the exchange and a cloud darkens his expression. “Is stooping to murder truly necessary?” He asks with a glare._

_Inias nods for Cas to tuck the vial away. “Necessary measures are sometimes unpleasant. What we all have here is worth protecting and Bernardo has had ample warning.”_

_Dean frowns but any further protest dies on his lips._

_“Thank you, my friends,” Castiel says as he slips the vial into his toga. Dean still looks unhappy, but Cas is certain he understands._

\---

_The next day, Castiel approaches the curia as if he isn’t intent on committing murder._

_He clenches his jaw when he spies Bernardo smirking from his corner, the dregs of the Senate hanging off his every word. He pointedly ignores the hushed whispers that follow him as he pushes forward, although he doubts the words will remain as whispers for long._

_He comes to a stop next to the group as if nothing at all is awry. He joins in polite conversation, biding his time and showing that he will not be affected by Bernardo’s lack of respect toward Dean._

_Minutes crawl by, the day is hot, so very hot and Castiel has no patience for Bernardo’s bluster but the man drones on and on until even Cas can see hardly anyone is listening._

_“Has one told you that moderation in all things if the best policy?” Cas asks tiredly, miming Bernardo’s incessant jabbering with his hand._

_Bernardo pauses mid-sentence to glare at Castiel. “Perhaps you ought to be reminded of that yourself, Castiel,” he says with a sneer. “Your infamia friend was walking with quite the hitch in his step yesterday.”_

_Cas growls lowly, ready to peel himself from the group and knock Bernardo on his ass. “I believe the stones you threw where the cause of Dean’s limp rather than any other misdeed,” Cas says with narrowed eyes. The Senators who had let out a faint huff of laughter at Cas’ initial words fall silent now as they stare between the two men._

_“The boy received nothing he did not deserve. His kind must not be tolerated. What of you, Castiel? What do you deserve?” Bernardo says with an accusing lift of his brow._

_“That is not an avenue you wish to pursue,” Inias cuts in coldly as he lays a staying hand atop Cas’ shoulder._

_The rest of the curia watches with feigned disinterest as Bernardo fumbles in the face of Inias’ threatening warning._

_“You defend his kind, senator?” Bernardo puffs up his chest and tries to appear dignified as his eyes gleam with distaste._

_“I need no defending,” Cas says with a growl as he shrugs off Inias’ hold._

_Bernardo laughs cruelly and shakes his head. “You will not always have a senator around to protect you. You’d do well to remember that,” Bernardo spits on the ground before turning away._

_“Bernardo,” Inias says calmly to the man’s back. “You would do well to remember that for all actions, there are consequences.”_

_Bernardo turns to glare, and Cas uses the distraction to tip the contents of the poison vial into Bernardo’s wine. No one notices the smooth motion, their attention too fixed on the staredown between Bernardo and Inias._

_Eventually, Inias gives the man a wicked little smirk and nods._

_Bernardo takes the gesture as a concession and quickly takes a deep pull from his chalice._

_Cas returns to Inias’ side and the Senator claps his hand over his shoulder and turns Cas away. “No need to watch,” Inias says lowly in Castiel’s ear._

_Behind them, Bernardo begins to choke, and shocked gasps follow the sound of a heavy body landing on the marble floor._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope y'all are as excited to finally say goodbye to Bernardo as I was. We're getting into the home stretch here and I am so grateful for those of you who are still with me. Your comments and support absolutely make my day.


	13. Twenty-Two, Continued

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cas arrives in Italy with Anna and Chuck and is ready to get to work, meanwhile his dreams have different ideas.

Cas’ flight with Anna and Chuck gets in late in the evening in Naples after missing their connection in Frankfurt. They had had to wait in line for two hours in a roped-off area like cattle to get their flight rebooked, but thankfully there were seats left on the last flight of the day heading to Naples and they’re finally here. He’s exhausted, Anna is cranky, and Chuck is his usual squirrely self, seemingly unaffected by the two full days of travel they’ve suffered through to get here.

He sighs in disappointment when he realizes he doesn’t have a chance of seeing Vesuvius from the airport. Not when the darkened sky is trying to drown them all with torrents of heavy summer rain.

“I just want to sleep for a week,” Anna says as the cab driver helpfully loads her suitcase into the trunk of the car.

Cas gives a non-committal grunt and throws his bag in alongside hers.

Chuck has already abandoned his bag on the curb for someone else to deal with and piled into the front seat of the car.

Cas helps the cab driver load Chuck’s bag after ushering Anna into the back. “Chuck, you got the address?”

Chuck lifts a hand in acknowledgment and rattles off the address of the hotel they’re staying in tonight for the cab driver.

Cas had thought Florida drivers were bad. Drivers in Naples are downright shocking.

The cab spirals up the large hill that old Naples was built into. Winding stretches of road, slick from earlier rain and a chorus of impatient car horns accompany their wild flight. More than once, Cas’ heart lodges in his throat at the sound of scraping metal and squealing tires when the scant inches between the cars is eaten up and they forcibly come to a lurching halt. If the way Anna is squeezing his fingers to the point where they’re beginning to tingle is any indication, she is equally terrified.

Chuck remains unfazed.

But, Chuck has been here before. He knows what to expect. He had even warned Cas and Anna about driving here but Cas hadn’t understood. No one could without seeing the carefully organized chaos for themselves.

Cas is immediately convinced that his initial idea to simply rent a car at the airport was the worst idea he has ever had. Now he understands why Chuck had broken into manic laughter before snapping a short and firm NO when he had made the suggestion and he offers up a quick prayer to thank all the gods that he listened to his mentor’s sage advice.

No matter the near brush with death, the taxi gets them to their hotel in one piece and Cas can’t even find it in himself to argue when the cab driver attempts to overcharge them. Chuck can sort everything out.

The hotel is quaint, nothing like the Best Westerns and Holiday Inns Cas has seen back home. The building is ancient, at least he thinks it is, and right angles don’t seem to exist where the walls come together to form corners. The stairwell is uneven, but the old wooden beams are plenty sturdy. Cas follows Anna to her room just to be sure she’ll be alright. Cas is staying a floor up with Chuck and he trusts his mentor to get the room situated in the meantime.

“We’ll meet you for breakfast?” Cas asks as he sets Anna’s suitcase on the queen-sized bed in the center of the room.

She watches him calmly as he turns to check the windows and then launches himself forward to inspect the bathroom. “Yes, they serve till ten, right?” She’s wearing a faint smirk of amusement when Cas pokes his head out of the bathroom with a wrinkled nose.

Everything is just so small. Theoretically knowing what to expect and seeing it with his own eyes are two very different things.

“Yeah. Everything looks good. You’re sure you’re going to be alright?” He knows she will be, but he can’t help but be protective of her. Compared to Meg, Anna seems so soft, so vulnerable, even though Cas would pity anyone who crossed her.

“I will be fine, Castiel,” Anna steps forward and snags his hand to tangle their fingers together.

Cas knows he’s fussing like a mother hen, he can’t help but feel protective, but her sudden familiarity has his mouth going dry and his throat tightening. “I should go,” He says, rubbing the back of his neck with the hand she hasn’t commandeered.

“I can’t believe we’re finally here,” Anna says as she releases Cas’ hand in favor of throwing her arms around his neck and turning her cheek into his chest.

Cas wraps an arm around her shoulders with great hesitation. In their two years of friendship, Cas can count on one hand the number of times they’ve hugged, and they have _never_ held hands.

Even in his exhaustion, this is weird.

“Fuck, I’m tired,” Anna says, yawning against Cas’ shirt. “Sorry, I’m just…” She trails off as she pulls herself away and smooths her shirt without meeting Castiel’s gaze. A faint flush of embarrassment colors her pale cheeks and Cas can’t help but smile.

“Exhausted, too excited, overwhelmed?” Cas offers a list and Anna nods along with each option. He huffs an agreeing laugh with a small smile. “I’m the same. This doesn’t feel real yet.”

“It really doesn’t. Anna grins despite the tired weight behind her eyes.

“I should go, we both need to sleep. And I need a shower.” He pretends to smell himself and scrunches his nose.

Anna laughs and gestures toward the door. “I’m sure I do too. Thank you, Castiel. I’m glad we’re here together,” She says with a warm smile.

“Me too.” Cas opens the door to her room and steps through. “Sleep well,” He says right before pulling the door shut and leaving Anna to herself.

Chuck is in the shower when Cas pushes through their door and collapses on the bed not holding Chuck’s luggage. His own luggage is left discarded under the window.

The sound of the shower running lulls Cas into a hazy state and he hums as his limbs become weightless. He’s never fought against falling asleep, not with the promise of Dean waiting for him on the other side, and he isn’t about to start now. He’ll wake up when Dean is done with him.

\---

_“Cas?” Dean questions softly as he pads into the room._

_Cas doesn’t move from his place on the couch. His aching head hangs in his hands and his eyes are held tightly closed against the stabbing rays of light seeping in through the open door._

_“Cas, what’s wrong?” Dean slams the door and Cas groans with a whimper as his head threatens to explode from his shoulders._

_Cas blindly reaches his hand out when Dean’s shadow falls over his stooped form._

_“Your head again?” Dean asks, quieting his voice as he drops to his knees at Cas’ feet. He coaxes Cas to look at him, but Cas can barely open his eyes. “Come to bed,” Dean says, running a hand up and down Cas’ arm soothingly._

_“Dean,” Cas says, voice dry and cracked from not even swallowing for as long as he’s been sitting motionless. Each infinitesimal movement brings a new torrent of nauseating pain that threatens tears to spill._

_Dean pushes to his feet and gently pulls Cas’ hand from his face and tugs him up. “Come on, I’ll darken the windows and make you some tea.”_

_Cas groans in response but allows Dean to lead him to the bedroom with his eyes closed. Halfway there, a new spike of pain erupts and Cas pulls away sharply. “Dean!” He cries, blindly clutching his head as he doubles over with the insistent lurching in his stomach._

_“Shit, here,” Dean grabs the first basket within reach and shoves it under Cas’ head just in time for the first heave._

_Cas grasps the basket and drops to his knees with a pained sob as empties his stomach._

_Dean rubs soothing circles on his back, even as the sour stench fills the space. “You’re alright,” He says and Cas disagrees._

_“I’m not,” Cas whines as he trembles underneath Dean’s touch._

_“You will be, then.” Dean smiles as he urges Cas up. “Come on, I can’t carry you.”_

_“I hate you,” Cas says, not meaning the words but right now, he hates everything._

_“You love me,” Dean says as he wraps his arm around Cas’ back and guides him toward their bed. “Feel better?” Dean asks, knowing full well that Cas always feels a little better after he throws up._

_Cas nods and groans. “For now.” He’s still nearly ready to wish for death._

_Dean gets him settled in their bed and presses a gentle kiss to Cas’ sweaty brow. “I’ll bring your tea.”_

_Cas groans but nods as he draws a blanket over his eyes. Dean pats his shoulder and leaves as silently as he can manage._

_Cas loses track of time until Dean returns, but the blanket over his eyes drawn away eventually and Dean is urging him up. The tea is bitter, it always is, but Dean sweetens it with honey, ginger, and mint to make it tolerable._

_Cas still grimaces after the cup is drawn away but the blinding pain in his head is almost immediately lightened and his stomach calms. “Thank you,” He says, voice rasping from the drying effect of the tea._

_“Shhh, lay down,” Dean says quietly and guides Cas to lay back. He lays a cool and damp cloth over Cas’ eyes before pressing another kiss to his brow._

_“I love you,” Cas whispers and he knows Dean is smiling when he feels the pat on his shoulder and hears Dean’s footsteps padding away lightly._

__\---

“Cas,” Chuck says loudly as he prods Cas’ shoulder. “Castiel, wake up.”

Cas groans and blinks against the dim light of the room. “Wha…?” He tries to say as he scrubs a hand over his face. His palms drag on his scruff and he groans, the lingering pain in his head from his dream slowly recedes as he blinks up at Chuck.

“Are you alright? You were whimpering.” Chuck scrubs his hair with his towel, already changed into his sleep clothes.

Cas rubs his eyes with the heels of his palms to chase away the lingering pain. “Migraine,” He says simply.

“Shit, do you need anything?” Chuck asks immediately.

Cas shakes his head. “Dream,” He says as gets to his feet. His eyes still ache, but the pain is fading quickly. This isn’t the first migraine he’s had in his dreams and he’s thankful that they don’t carry over into his real life.

The shower is steamy hot and wonderful, burning away the last dregs of misery from his dream. His eyes struggle to stay open as he scrubs his skin violently until he’s red and sore all over. He never imagined how terribly filthy traveling would make him feel.

His mind wanders to the plans for the next days, moving into their apartment, orientation, the months of digging and analyzing. Waiting for Dean.

He can’t decide if coming here makes him crazy or not. His hopes and aspirations all hinge on finding Dean. Of Dean being drawn to this place the same as he had.

Deep down, he’s pretty sure that makes him crazy.

Obsessive at the very least.

He can’t help that Dean has been the only constant in his life for as long as he can remember. Cas has carved out a good place for himself, managed to somehow keep his shit together even when faced with the neglect filled childhood he had and come out ahead. He should be proud, at least that’s what Chuck assures him.

He huffs to himself as he considers just how lucky he’s been. For all that he’s been alone, he’s always had someone to show him the way. To guide him through his mother’s bullshit and come out the other side intact.

He still feels like he doesn’t deserve all this. Any time now, someone is going to rise up and discover that he’s just a poor kid from the wrong side of town who had to steal food and sell drugs to survive. Plain white trash, Uriel called him with a sneer.

He’s still half-convinced Uriel was right.

And Meg would probably murder him if she knew the thoughts churning through his mind.

He turns off the taps and shakes his head. Anna, Balthazar, Gabriel, Chuck, Rufus...they would probably all vehemently disagree with Uriel’s words. Hopefully, Dean will too if they ever find each other.

He quickly dries off and wraps the towel around his waist as he steps out of the shower. The condensation on the mirror leaves streaks when he wipes it away with his hands. Through the smeared glass, he takes a long look at himself.

The two-day stubble spreading over his chin and jaw paired with the dark circles under his eyes makes him look far older than his twenty-two years and he huffs at his reflection.

He is not shaving tonight. He refuses.

Sleep tugs persistently as he finishes his nighttime routine. He doesn’t even care that they didn’t grab anything for dinner before checking into the hotel. Even his stomach is too tired to do anything but grumble weakly.

Tomorrow morning, he’ll get on a train to Ercolano and settle into the apartment that will be home for the next year. There is an orientation to attend and then the work will begin. To say Cas is excited is an understatement.

\---

The months pass quickly. Weeks have been spent full of research and cataloging, translating classical Latin and helping with restoration work to make the area safer for tourists without destroying anything more than the mountain already has.

The early days of excavation were haphazard and destructive. Centuries of pillaging for valuables has taken its toll on the ruins, and the more they excavate, the faster everything decays. What was once safely preserved under the volcanic rock is now exposed to oxygen for the first time in a millennium and a half, and oxygen is almost as destructive as water. Much of the area has been exposed for almost two hundred years now but the only real preservation work began fifty years ago. There is a lot of modern damage to counteract.

The work he’s doing will continue long after his term here is over.

He’s visited the boathouse where Portia’s skeleton was found, the Ring Lady to everyone else, but the low-lying area seems strange and uncomfortable to him as if some unseen force is warning him away.

In his dreams, the boathouses are along the shore. Now, staring out toward the sea from where they sit, all he can see is a towering wall of concrete and earth.

The results of Herculaneum being buried under fifty feet of molten rock and ash from the eruption. To excavate the city, archeologists had to dig through all the rock that had solidified over top, giving the ancient city the appearance of being in a deep pit.

Herculaneum is far from the seaside town he remembers growing up in.

The differences only make his memories more striking. He’s taken at least a thousand photographs and spent hours on end sitting inside his childhood bedroom where his bed once was, simply remembering.

Many of the gardens that decorated the city have been restored, or least a reasonable attempt has been made. Across from his villa is a garden of orange trees that most certainly were not there in the first century CE, but the short and neatly trimmed hedges lining the inner garden of his family’s villa bring back memories. The columns forming the inner perimeter of the garden were once a brilliant white color, but now the brick shows beneath most of them and the marble that remains is heavily stained by time. The low wall he laid on with Dean to watch the stars lies in pieces.

They call it Casa D’Argo now, but Castiel knows that it once belonged to his family.

Cas had been sure that he would find the ruins depressing, but he doesn’t at all. They’re filled with memories, but they aren’t his future.

In his dreams, he and Dean are safe in Rome. Bernardo is gone, Inias and Samandriel have become close friends and allies. To be honest, Cas is a little concerned about Samandriel’s influence on Dean, but he isn’t going to tell Dean as much.

He values their sex life too much for that, thank you very much.

And it isn’t that Samandriel is bad, it’s that his time as a slave in the army taught him a myriad of skills that both frighten Cas and leave him in awe.

The renegade slave has already taught Dean how to distill deadly poisons from various plants and fashion a weapon out of nearly anything.

Dean was merely dangerous before, but now he could be deadly if provoked.

Cas wipes the sweat from his brow as he climbs the long ramp out of the ruined city. Anna trudges along beside him, her work is far more physical than his and he’s certain she hasn’t been dust-free since they arrived.

Her smile absolutely glows with delight every single day.

Castiel is happy. Every day is a chance to scan the crowds for Dean’s verdant eyes and lightly freckled cheeks and he has plans with Chuck to spend Christmas in Rome while Anna’s family comes to visit.

Castiel cannot wait to walk the city streets and stand outside the Colosseum that Dean helped build. He’s nearly giddy to stand inside the Curia and stare up at the Rostrum that he spends so much time on in his dreams. The deep connection he feels to these places settles something deep inside him that he hadn’t realized was out of joint.

He finally feels at home, free from Naomi’s influence and free to be himself.

The late August heat is abysmal once they leave the shade of the buildings and step into the sun to cross the footbridge leading into modern Herculaneum and Cas’ squints to keep the dusty sweat from rolling into his eyes.

“Showers and then dinner from Antica Macelleria?” Anna asks, her eyes gleaming with the satisfaction of a day well spent. They often pick up the Italian version of fast food for their group of interns and graduate students and then pile into someone’s apartment to laugh away the night in easy camaraderie.

Cas furrows his brow and shrugs. “Chuck wanted to head into Naples tonight, I was planning on going with him.”

Anna nods in understanding. Of all the people in his life, Chuck is the closest he has to family. “Alright, we’ll see you tomorrow then,” Anna says as she waves at the turn off for her apartment.

Cas barely watches her go, content that the other researches are around them to keep her safe. Not that he worries much here anyway. He’s never felt as safe back home as he does in Italy. The culture is just different, he can’t quite put his finger on how but he very much enjoys it.

He wanders back to the apartment he’s sharing with Chuck and strips down for his shower. He’s gotten used to the barely warm water; the water heater is tiny, as is typical for Italy, and doesn’t provide more than five minutes' worth of hot water. The heat of the day makes the cool shower welcome, and then the chill of the air conditioner, when he gets out, leaves chill bumps all over his body that have him smiling and shivering.

Sometimes, it feels good to be cold.

Chuck isn’t back yet, probably won’t be for another hour at least, so Cas decides that a nap might be in order.

The only downside of his work is the unearthly hour they begin every morning. He understands why starting work at six am keeps them out of the worst heat of the day and gets them all there before the tourists arrive. But that early hour also means he’s exhausted by midafternoon.

He throws on a pair of shorts and a thin t-shirt before crawling into bed. Chuck will wake him when he’s ready to go. He clicks off his lamp with a yawn and shimmies back into his bedding with a smile.

\---

_Cas stares down at the letter in his hands. His father is gone. The mountain had begun to shake when he was visiting the groves and the building he had taken shelter in collapsed. No one inside had survived._

_Tears escape his eyes as he continues to stare at his mother’s handwriting. His summons home. He must go, he has no choice._

_The garden around him seems to quiet with his anguish. His father should have had so many years left. He was strong and healthy. But now, everything falls to Castiel._

_Will he even be able to stay in Rome? Should he return permanently to Ercolano?_

_He doesn’t know. He doesn’t care._

_His father is dead._

_None of that matters right now. He needs to go home._

_“Cas?” Dean interrupts his spiraling thoughts and he’s soon rushing to Castiel’s side. There are more words, but Cas barely pays attention._

_Dean holds him tight and promises that Portia’s words about the gods being angry with them are wrong. Deep down, Cas knows that Dean is right, but he still reels from the venom in his mother’s words._

_Even after all this time, she still hates Dean. So, Cas tries to convince Dean that maybe Portia is right._

_The agony on Dean’s features when Cas says that he’s done everything wrong, the way Dean immediately thinks that Cas is saying being together is wrong, causes Cas to sob anew._

_He never meant that. He could never regret being with Dean._

_They talk some more, Dean claims that Vulcan has awoken and is angry. They should stay away from the mountain. From Vesuvius. But Cas needs to return home._

_He has no choice. And as always, Dean is determined to never leave his side._

_Within a few shorts hours, they’re packed and traveling. Castiel takes a moment to bid Inias farewell and Samandriel draws him into a crushing hug before sending them on their way, promising to look after their villa while they’re away._

_Cas doesn’t promise to return and both Inias and Dean look to him with sadness written across their features._

_The horses Castiel acquires are young and sturdy, he and Dean can mount and ride at a slow trot. A pace that will carry them efficiently, nothing like their hurried flight to Rome four years ago._

_Cas stares ahead as they make their way south. Dean rides close but doesn’t try to pull Castiel from his cycling thoughts with idle conversation. Cas is glad for Dean’s quiet presence, his strength happens to be the only thing holding Cas together as they ride toward the place Castiel hadn’t ever wanted to return to._

_He knew he would eventually, if only for his father’s funeral, but that simple fact was too easy to push aside and ignore._

_He thought he would have more time._

_“Cas?” Dean’s voice drifts across the space between them and Cas turns his baleful gaze toward him. “We should stop soon,” Dean says, gesturing to the sky and the waning light around them._

_Castiel nods, swallowing hard as he stares ahead. “We should be near Terracina. We can rent a room there,” Cas says with a frown. He doesn’t recall the sky beginning to darken, but Dean is right. They need to stop and rest._

_Dean rides closer, their horses nearly brushing against one another, until they pass through the gate into the small city of Terracina._

_Finding a room is easy. As soon as the innkeeper catches sight of Castiel’s crisp white tunic, lined with the purple of the upper classes, the man nearly falls over himself to offer them his best room with_ two _beds and supper delivered directly to their room._

_Castiel pays for the room with warm thanks and a grateful smile. As soon as they’re left alone inside their room, Dean is dragging Castiel into his arms and down onto the finer of the two beds._

_Cas goes quietly and his eyes slide closed as Dean runs his fingers through his hair and presses light kisses to Castiel’s shoulder._

_They don’t try to talk about what Castiel is feeling. Cas doesn’t know what the sum of his thoughts is anyway._

_His father was not a perfect man, he made many mistakes when it came to Castiel, and especially when it came to Dean. But he had tried, and in the end, Felix made things right._

_Castiel loves his father, knowing that he’s gone causes pain to spike in Cas’ chest and tears to leak from his eyes. He doesn’t mind if Dean sees his weakness._

_Dean only holds him tighter and whispers words of comfort._

_Cas feels himself drifting on the wings of sleep and he fights against the sensation, not wanting to miss out on the feeling of Dean holding him close but he knows it’s a losing battle. Dean’s fingers against his scalp work their magic, and soon enough, the world around him fades into nothingness._

\---

Cas bolts awake and flies out of bed. The late afternoon sun is beginning to dim, casting shadows across his room. “No, no no no,” He says, muttering to himself as he searches his phone for the calendar.

August twenty-first.

Cas’ heart clenches. Three days. Three days until Vesuvius erupts and buries Herculaneum under more than fifty feet of ash and rock.

He and Dean are heading directly toward disaster.

“Castiel?” Chuck knocks on his door and cracks it open. “Are you ready to go?”

Cas stands in the center of his room and stares at Chuck with wild eyes.

Chuck quickly steps into the room. “Castiel, what happened? Are you okay?” Chuck runs his hands up and down Cas’ arms, pushing him to turn to check for injury. “Cas?”

The uncommon use of the shortened form of his name pulls Cas out of his stupor. “Dreams,” He says. “My father died and we’re going back to Herculaneum.”

“Okay,” Chuck says, drawing out the word with an arched brow.

Cas lets out a groan of frustration and throws his arms in the air. “The date, Chuck! Vesuvius erupts in three days and we’re headed right for it!”

“Oh,” Chuck says simply, his eyes widening a fraction. “I, uh, I’m sorry, Castiel.”

Cas lets out a derisive huff and shakes his head before turning a narrow-eyed glare on his mentor. “So am I,” Cas says with a little too much bite as he pushes by.

Cas heads directly for their kitchenette and pours himself a glass of water from the tap and chugs the cool liquid without ceremony. Chuck startles when the glass hits the counter with a loud smack and Cas leans over with his palms pressing against the edge.

“Talk to me, Castiel,” Chuck says after a moment. “You said your father died? Felix?”

Cas nods and lets out a shaky breath. “I got a message from Portia, saying I was needed in Herculaneum. Dean tried to talk me out of it, said he had heard the mountain was angry. They don’t even know it’s a volcano, Chuck. It’s been dormant for so long that they’ve forgotten.” Cas slaps the countertop with open palms and turns to face Chuck. “Dean and I are going to die and there isn’t anything I can do about it!”

“Oh, Castiel.” Chuck shakes his head sadly. “I had hoped you and Dean would have a happy ending.”

Cas snorts and shakes his head. “You and me both.” He turns back to the counter, tears burning behind his eyes. “I can’t, Chuck, what if I dream the eruption? I can’t...” Castiel gasps, throat constricting at the very thought of watching Dean die.

Chuck lays a comforting hand on Cas’ shoulder. “You will be okay, no matter what happens. Dean is still out there somewhere, waiting for you right now. I’m sure of it.”

Cas huffs and shakes his head. “I wish I could be that confident.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm posting this a day early since tomorrow I will be mead drunk and fairy dusted with my friends (Renaissance festival...not some weird kinky thing, I swear).
> 
> I want to mention that the date I'm using for the eruption is no longer considered the likely date by many archeologists. Recent discoveries in Pompeii have potentially moved the eruption forward two months to October 24 instead of August 24. When I began writing this series, August was still the commonly accepted month and until scientists come to a definitive answer I have no plans to change things.
> 
> As always, I love to hear from you.


	14. Twenty Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cas struggles during the days leading up to the eruption and his friends and colleagues notice. Anna is not about to let his foul mood persist unchecked.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here it is, the moment we've all been dreading since the beginning. This a short chapter but it packs a punch.
> 
> I had planned to post this a few days ago, but then I noticed the date and I couldn't pass up the opportunity to post this particular chapter on the (probably inaccurate) date that I'm using for the eruption.

“Castiel, come on, talk to me,” Anna says as she grabs the small trowel out of his hand and forces his attention. “You’ve been snapping at everyone for two days now. Darius is terrified to come pick up your samples!”

Cas clenches his jaw and squeezes his hands into fists at his sides. The aching throb from kneeling for hours has his body trembling and his patience short as he stares straight at the ancient housing foundation he’s been taking samples from. Sweat prickles along the back of his neck despite the scrap of shade he’s found himself in but he barely notices the punishing heat.

The misery of the sweltering midsummer weather is nothing compared to the misery that awaits him tonight.

“What happened? Did someone hurt you?” Anna drops to her knees beside him and takes one of his clenched fists in her hands.

His breath catches at that and he shakes his head. “Leave me alone, Anna, please,” He finally says, and Anna only clutches his hand tighter.

“No.” She squeezes his hand, forcing him to open his palm so she can lace their fingers together. “You’re hurting, or angry, or…something! I know something is wrong and I refuse to let you shut me out,” Anna says firmly, and Cas shrinks in on himself at her tone.

Anna is normally so reserved, hearing her voice this strained and almost angry breaks something inside of Castiel and a single tear escapes the corner of his eye.

“I can’t, Anna. I can’t talk about it,” Cas says, shaking his head. He doesn’t try to take his hand back; he only gives her a gentle squeeze.

Anna sits with him quietly for a moment, gathering her thoughts and waiting him out.

“Have you ever lost someone?” Cas eventually asks. His tone has gone soft, on the verge of cracking as tears prickle in his eyes. He knows that trying to resist her is a losing battle. All Anna will have to do is stare at him with those pleading, doe eyes of hers and his resolve will crumble like the dust of so many ruins.

“My grandparents, when I was fifteen. They were in a car accident,” Anna says softly, steadily.

Cas sucks in a breath and nods, trying to convince himself not to tell her anything. If he does, he’ll have to explain his dreams and he knows she won’t be as accepting as Chuck.

“Is this about your mom?” Anna asks, scooting closer.

Cas lets out a bitter laugh at that thought.

He hasn’t cried for Naomi since that night in the hospital. “No,” he says, shaking his head.

“Then what? Talk to me, I’m worried about you,” Anna says, her tone taking on a pleading edge as she releases his hand to wrap an arm around his shoulders.

Cas leans into her, letting her solid warmth comfort his aching heart. “You’ll think I’m crazy,” He says, not looking away from the stones in front of him.

“I’ve known you too long to think you’re crazy,” Anna says, and Cas huffs a laugh.

“You sure about that?” He asks, half-joking.

Anna pushes him back and forces him to meet her gaze. “I promise. Ok? I promise. You can talk to me, no matter how bad you think it is.”

Cas nods and closes his eyes tightly. His throat stings and feels like he’s swallowed and gotten an apple stuck somewhere along the way. He doesn’t trust himself to try to speak.

The pain of his impending loss feels like a knife through his heart. He thinks being stabbed might somehow hurt less. At least a physical wound would eventually heal.

Losing Dean, he shakes his head, there is no healing from that.

Anna sighs and looks at him with compassion in her gaze. “How about you come over to my apartment tonight. We’ll pick up pizza and talk.”

Cas nods dumbly.

Anna nods firmly. “Alright. Come on,” She says after checking her watch.

Cas furrows his brow and looks at his watch. How did three o’clock sneak up on him? “Okay,” He says after letting out a heavy breath.

Anna walks him home in near silence and makes him promise to come over after he gets cleaned up.

An hour later finds him outside her door with a bottle of Lacryma Christi. Fitting he thinks, considering this wine only exists because of the volcano that destroyed Pompeii and Herculaneum.

He’s certain she’ll call him crazy and kick him out, but he’s too weak to tell her no.

Anna answers the door wearing jeans and cozy, long-sleeved t-shit and immediately invites him in. “I figured we can grab a pizza in a little bit and talk after, if you want. For now though, wanna just watch some television?”

Cas lets out the breath he was holding and nods. “Netflix?” He asks, already knowing the answer. They’ve both learned enough Italian to function, but watching mindless television is just easier in English.

“I’ll pour us some wine,” Anna says with a smile and gestures for him to take a seat. “I think yours will go better with pizza, so we’ll start with one of mine.”

They drink an entire bottle of sweet red wine while watching old episodes of Dr. Sexy and only then do they decide they’re hungry enough to eat. Cas laughs at all the right places and even joins Anna in mocking the way all the doctors greet each other. He’s never really liked the show but he finds the melodrama comforting for reasons he’s never understood.

The walk to the takeout pizza place on the corner passes quickly and within ten minutes they’re parked back in front of Anna’s television. Cas is glad for Anna’s easy demeanor as he forces himself to eat. His stomach is a riotous bundle of nerves that is only worsening as the hour grows later.

Tonight is the night his world implodes. He’s given thought to simply trying to stay awake to avoid what he expects is going to happen, but then he might never have a chance to say goodbye.

He needs to do this.

“Alright,” Anna says as she grabs the Lacryma Christi from the refrigerator. “Spill, what’s got you in knots.”

Cas frowns and takes the glass she pours. He immediately downs about half the wine and shakes his head. “If you’re going to understand, you need to know everything,” He says and Anna nods.

So Castiel ignores the way his heart pleads to hold his silence and he tells her everything he knows about Dean and the dreams he’s been having since he can remember.

Anna frowns but nods for him to continue, right up until he tells her that he’s sure he and Dean are both about to die.

“Wait, hold on. So, this guy from your dreams. He’s the mystery man Balthazar was so hell-bent on discovering, isn’t he?” Anna asks as she scoots forward in her seat.

“That’s what you take from this?” Cas asks with a raised brow. He’s done a remarkably good job of keeping his emotions in line, but his eyes are still burning with unshed tears. He can’t handle her mocking him.

“It’s just, I. Okay, I can’t pretend I understand, but clearly Dean is really important to you,” She says and Cas nods.

“You think I’m crazy.” Cas’ words aren’t a question, they’re a statement of fact.

Anna’s mouth straightens to a flat line before dipping into a frown. “No,” She says eventually, shaking her head. “I think you’re going through something very difficult and I intend to be here for you.”

Cas huffs and wipes his eyes; not certain he understands her words, but he isn’t going to press. He is going through something difficult. Impossible even. He glances at the clock and winces at the time. “I should go, you need to get some sleep.” He doesn’t want to think about what awaits him when he closes his eyes tonight.

Anna sighs and shakes her head. “I’ll stay up with you if you want,” She says with a sympathetic look.

Cas frowns and glances down. “No, I need to face this. I need to know.”

Anna smiles softly. “Maybe it won’t happen. Maybe you guys already got out and you just don’t know it yet.”

Cas sighs and gives her a wry smile. He appreciates her trying. “I already know my mother died, I can’t imagine I would have left her behind.”

Anna’s brows furrow. “How do you know she died?”

Cas shrugs. “The Ring Lady. Her name was Portia Laetilia Porci. She was my mother.”

Anna’s eyes widen comically before she narrows them with skepticism. “The Ring Lady was your past self’s mom?”

Cas huffs and nods before wrinkling his nose. “She was a bitch.”

Anna laughs at that and falls back onto the couch. “You’ll have to tell me about her sometime.”

Cas nods with a shrug. “I can do that.” He takes a moment to yawn as he glances back to the clock. This might be the last chance he ever has to see Dean. He needs to go. “I’m going to head home. See you tomorrow?”

Anna nods and pushes to her feet the same time he does. “Call me if you need anything,” She says quietly as she shows him to the door.

“Thanks, Anna,” Cas says as he steps out and closes the door behind him, leaving him to face the short walk home and the dreams that await him. He feels only slightly better than someone else knows his secrets. His stomach lurches and he can barely swallow as he walks, knowing he’s walking into certain doom has him shooting furtive glances toward the mountain that serves a backdrop to modern Herculaneum. Even with Anna’s support, he isn’t certain he can do this.

\---

_Cas wakes to the stinging stench of sulfur and the sounds of screaming. He lays in a daze, trying to wake up enough to make sense of what he’s hearing. He swallows hard and sits up, the knot in his stomach tightens painfully as he looks at Dean sleeping beside him._

_Two grown men crammed onto his childhood bed isn’t ideal, but they’re usually wrapped tightly around each other anyway. This morning is no different._

_His brow furrows at that, it should be morning but the sky remains darkened. He stumbles to his window, heart beginning to race. Snow falls that isn’t snow at all and the streets are beginning to fill with people running._

_“Dean! Dean wake up,” Cas says as he shakes the man awake. Dean peers up at him groggily._

_“What’s wrong?” Dean questions but the panic must show on Castiel’s face because Dean begins to climb from the bed without further prompting._

_“The mountain, Dean, you were right. We must go.” Cas tugs Dean up and they both dress hurriedly. Cas throws on a simple tunic, he refuses to waste his time on a toga right now. “We need to go to the docks, the boathouses will be safe,” Cas says as he takes Dean’s hand. He will not let go, he can't._

_Dean shakes his head. “No, Cas, we shouldn’t...” Dean starts but a scream from deeper in the house kills the words on his lips._

_“Castiel! Hurry! We must go!” Portia’s chilling tone has them both freezing in place and staring at their door._

_“Dean,” Cas says, his tone pitching high with the fear coursing through his veins. “We need to leave. Now.”_

_An explosion in the distance makes the ground tremble beneath their feet and Dean flinches away from the outer walls. Dust falls from the ceiling, coating everything in its path. Cas’ patience disappears and he grabs Dean’s roughly by the hand as they hurry from the room._

_Portia barely spares Dean a glance, her attention is solely on her son as the three of them flee the house. Dean shouts for Lucius and Cas hopes the other slaves escape as well._

_He doesn’t trust Portia to have given them the order to run._

_They hurry up a small side street and join the swarm of people running toward the shore along uneven and deeply rutted cobblestones. Portia stumbles in her finery, her sandals poorly designed for running but they push on. The crowd pushes them forward and Cas clings tightly to Dean’s hand while Lucius does his best to keep them all together._

_Portia disappears from view suddenly and Cas lunges forward as the swarms tumble directly over her. She shouts in pain and panic but Cas cannot reach her outstretched hand._

_“No!” Dean shouts as he breaks away from Cas and dives toward Portia. He shoves and kicks his way to her. When he can grasp her elbow in his hand, he wrenches the woman to her feet and gives her a push to keep moving._

_“Don’t touch me, you filth!” Portia snarls and Dean ignores her._

_Cas is nearly ready to open his mouth, but Dean beats him to it._

_“I would be happy to see you trampled, you shrew!” Dean bites back. “But for some reason, Cas doesn’t, and he means a hell of a lot more to me than you!”_

_Portia gapes and Cas’ hand finds Dean’s again and gives him a reassuring squeeze. Dean gives her another push and Cas shrugs at her outraged expression. He can do nothing to quell her hatred of Dean and he’s beyond caring what she thinks._

_Finally, they get moving again and reach the boathouses without further trouble._

_The beach is crowded, hundreds of people trying to escape Vulcan’s wrath are pushing and shoving their way into the cave-like boathouse. Sulfur and ash sting their eyes and choke their lungs, but the damp underground air provides some relief._

_Cas and Lucius shove to the back, dragging Dean and Portia with them to find enough space to sit on the sandy ground._

_Cas tries not to dwell on the absence of the water that normally laps gently at the shore as people pile in around them. The boats are gone and the beach stretches as far as the eye can see. Cas swallows hard and closes his eyes as he helps his mother get settled amidst her outraged cries of being forced to sit on the ground._

_He’s tempted to leave her standing._

_The air is thick and heavy, breathing is growing more difficult even inside the boathouse and ash flutters heavily from the sky to paint the outside world in shades of grey._

_The world is ending, Cas is sure of it._

_He and Dean cling to each other while Portia finally falls silent. Time seems to stop as they wait. Children cry and women whimper as some of the men stand stoic guard over them all._

_No one has the energy to spare them a glance when Dean draws Cas into a deep kiss and claws at his shoulders in desperation._

_A steady stream of tears seeps from Cas’ eyes into Dean’s hair as the torches die. “I’m sorry for bringing you back here, mi carissime,” Cas whispers into the darkness between them and Dean grunts his disagreement._

_“I would never have let you come alone,” Dean protests. The sun seems to have died along with the torches. Outside the sky is an inky grey, interrupted only by steaks of fire as the mountain begins to explode bit by bit._

_The cries and whimpers turn into frantic screams with each new explosion and Dean trembles in Cas’ arms. Cas is sweating, too hot, but he doesn’t care. He holds Dean tighter._

_Cas feels his lungs protesting the heavy air and his mind starts to grow fuzzy. “I love you,” he whispers to Dean as he swallows hard._

_He barely hears when Dean whispers back. “I love you, Castiel.”_

_Cas’ fear dissipates as he gives in to the darkness creeping in on his vision. The sky glows of a faint red and the heat is nearly unbearable. Large rocks from the sky, banging against the stone above them and threating to crash through their meager defenses._

_“Dean?” Cas croaks when people begin to scream again._

_“Hush, my love. We’re going to be fine,” Dean says as he squeezes Cas._

_Cas knows Dean is wrong, but he doesn’t have the heart to argue. He wants to believe they really will be alright._

_“Dean,” Cas says again, his panic rising once again._

_“I love you,” Dean says, and Cas can hear the tears in his voice as the roar from outside draws closer._

_Cas tries to tell Dean he loves him, but the world ends before he can utter the words._

\---

He can’t get out of the apartment fast enough. The sulfur and smoke still clog his lungs and he swears ash clings to his skin as he runs down the stairs leading to the street. He needs air.

He tumbles out onto the street with Chuck following close behind.

“Cas. Castiel!” Chuck calls to him but Cas is already heading for the ruins. His bare feet sting as he pounds them across the uneven cobblestones.

The streets are nearly deserted, but the few people who remain look at him with raised brows. As if his crazed flight onto the street weren’t enough, his athletic shorts and faded t-shirt catch everyone’s attention. These things are simply not worn in public here, no matter the weather.

“CASTIEL!” Chuck finally catches him, snagging him around the waist and dragging him back against his body. “Talk to me.”

Cas chokes on his sobs and shakes his head. He can’t. It’s too horrible. He _died_. Dean died. Vesuvius took them without mercy, without consideration for the trials they’ve faced.

“It isn’t fair,” Cas says through his tears as he struggles against Chuck’s hold. “It isn’t fair!”

“Calm down, Castiel. Breathe. You’re okay. Dean is okay. You can’t change the past,” Chuck says as he holds his arms tight around Castiel’s.

Cas sucks in heaving breaths, the heat from the pyroclastic blast still prickling at his skin. All he sees when he closes his eyes is Dean’s tear-filled gaze, knowing everything was ending. “No,” Cas says, still struggling. “I need. Boathouses. Chuck, I need to be there.” Tears roll down his cheeks. He can barely see but he doesn’t care. He needs to get down there.

“Come back inside, we can talk about it,” Chuck says, still holding Cas tight against his chest with his arms pinned to his sides.

Cas’ knees buckle and Chuck goes down with him. “The boathouses,” Cas says, although his voice is barely coherent. “We thought we’d be safe.”

“I know, Castiel, you know they weren’t safe. Come back to me now. Remember when you are,” Chuck says in Cas’ ear. He keeps his tone low and light as Cas trembles against his hold.

Cas tries to breathe, to expel the remains of the volcanic air but his skin burns with the heat and his sobs continue.

Chuck holds him there, in the street with a crowd gathering around them. “Night terrors,” Chuck says to the onlookers. “Nothing to see here, go back to your apartments.” Chuck would shoo them away with his hands, but he doesn’t dare let go of Castiel.

“We thought we’d be safe,” Cas says again, fixating on how he knew even in his dreams that the boathouses weren’t safe. “But the water. The water was gone, and people were screaming.”

“Come inside with me,” Chuck says, ignoring Castiel’s babbling as he slowly loosens his hold.

Cas nods dumbly and helps Chuck get them back in their feet. “Dean called her a shrew,” Cas says with a giggle. “He finally...”

The reminder of Dean sends Cas into a new round of choked sobs, but he lets Chuck guide them back down the street to their building.

“He finally told her off?” Chuck asks, humoring Castiel.

Cas nods. “He saved her from being trampled and she was a bitch about it.”

Chuck huffs a small laugh and slowly takes his hands off of Cas entirely, not going far in the chance that he might be hit with another wave of panic and try to run.

Cas folds in on himself as a heavy wave of sadness threatens to drown him. The initial terror bleed from his dream has subsided but the memories still burn through him like the fire exploding from the mountain. He turns his gaze toward Vesuvius, even in the dark he can see the mountain still towering calmly over the modern city.

He swallows hard as he takes in the summit. In his dreams, the top formed a proper cone, not the collapsed center that it has now. Not long after he started his internship, he took a hike up there with some of the other archeologists and stared down at the sulfuric steam pouring from the vents. Even then he hadn’t imagined he would stand witness to the destruction that was wrought.

His chest shudders with a fresh sob as he considers all that the volcano took from him.

He doesn’t want to stop to think how his real-life hasn’t changed at all.

“Castiel?” Chuck says his name as a question and Cas looks to see him holding the door, waiting.

Cas takes a shaky breath and forces his feet to carry him back inside.

He won’t be going back to sleep tonight.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have to admit I cried on my final readthrough of this chapter. When I'm writing and editing, I'm too focused on looking for mistakes and getting my wording just so to get emotional...but that final reading nearly gutted me.


	15. Twenty Three

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cas is no stranger to pain and grief, but the hardship of losing his dreams is more difficult than anything he's ever faced. Going through the motions can only get him so far and his friends refuse to give up on him. Something has to change and a birthday celebration is a good place to start.

The next months pass in a blur. Castiel spends as much time as he can in the boathouses and more than once he falls asleep curled up in the spot where he and Dean died so many years ago. His heart perpetually aches, strummed on by the emptiness in his dreams.

He tracks down their remains and breaks down in devastated sobs as he stares at photographs from the early excavations. Somehow, Dean’s arm was broken and the casts taken of them holding each other tightly failed to show any definition to their faces. He feels cheated not being able to gaze upon Dean’s fine features one last time, but the casts are on tour with the Ring Lady in Paris so he can’t visit them right away.

He doesn’t eat very well, and Anna complains that he’s gotten too thin.

Chuck watches him go through the motions both at work and home without interfering.

Grief takes time, and Castiel has a lot of it to process.

Whenever Cas loses track of time in the boathouses, Chuck or Anna eventually come to find him and bring him home with quiet sympathies and pity filled looks.

Anna’s quiet presence is a comfort, and Chuck’s understanding serves as a balm to Castiel’s wounds, but still, he grieves.

Nighttime is the worst.

Where is his sleep was once filled with bright smiles and vivid green eyes, tender touches and whispered words of affection, he now only has tortured memories of his mother and nonsensical dreams that mean nothing at all.

He’s lost Dean.

“You haven’t lost him, Castiel,” Chuck says one morning when Castiel is being particularly despondent. “He’s out there somewhere, right now, and I’m sure he’s looking for you.”

Cas sighs and shakes his head. “You can’t know that. If he was looking for me, he would have come here. The dreams kept pointing me here, wouldn’t his have too?” Cas drops his head into his hands, ignoring the coffee in front of him.

“You’re right. I don’t know. But I have faith. You said Dean was a year younger than you?” Chuck says and Cas nods without lifting his head. “Then he might still be. He’s probably in college somewhere, getting ready to graduate and come find you.”

Cas looks up at Chuck with narrowed eyes. He doesn’t want to admit that Chuck might be right. Dean is probably still in school. Maybe Cas came here a year too soon. Maybe he should have waited.

“Regardless of Dean though, what are you going to do when your time is up here? Look for a way to stay?” Chuck asks as he pours himself a bowl of cereal. The dry corn flakes make the ceramic bowl tinkle as they drop and Cas stares blankly as they fall.

“Castiel?” Chuck says again and Cas finally looks up at him.

“Anna says I shouldn’t stay here,” Cas says flatly before frowning and dropping his chin to rest on his closed fist.

Chuck sighs and shakes his head. “I don’t care what Anna thinks. What do _you_ want to do?”

Cas sucks in a breath and leans back in his chair to stare at the ceiling. Anywhere but at Chuck. He shrugs. “I was thinking of applying to Stanford.”

Chuck arches a brow. “Stanford? They have a good program, but why Stanford?”

Cas shrugs. “I don’t know. Something about it feels right.”

Chuck nods and takes a bite of his cereal. “Then you should apply,” he says right after swallowing.

Cas pinches a frown but nods. He doesn’t know why Stanford is stuck in his head. He woke up one morning with the idea and can’t get it out of his mind no matter what he tries. He doesn’t know how he’ll be able to afford grad school, but he feels like he needs to be there.

He doesn’t bother telling Chuck that he submitted his application last week to beat their December deadline.

“Christmas is coming up. Do you still want to spend the week in Rome?” Chuck asks, taking advantage of Castiel’s relatively talkative mood.

Cas nods absently before downing his coffee in one gulp. Espresso is easy that way. “Yeah, I still want to see our villa and the forum,” Cas says like he’s set foot in Rome during his lifetime. He both looks forward to and dreads spending the holidays in the Eternal City. He knows it will look nothing like the city he knows so well from his dreams.

The buildings that were there have since seen almost two thousand years of history. The city has grown, changed shape and faced hardship. Plague, famine, war. Rome has survived so much since the time of his dreams.

He aches for her nearly as much as he aches for Dean.

\---

As time continues to pass, Castiel continues to heal. He misses Dean fiercely and he’s never slept so poorly in his life, but he manages each day as it comes.

Christmas comes and goes, his week in Rome with Chuck is pain-filled and beautiful. He spends hours in the forum, sitting on the steps of Curia until some kind docent takes pity and invites him inside.

The building is closed for the day, but there are so few people milling around that they make an exception. Castiel stands in front of the seat that once belonged to Inias and he can’t help but wonder whatever became of his friend.

Inias’ name doesn’t exist in any of the records that Castiel can find and worry gnaws at his gut over the man’s fate. Not every Senator was noteworthy, but the ancients also had a habit of practicing Damnatio Memoriae, the practice of erasing someone from the memory by damning their mention as punishment for various crimes.

Vespasian passed away months before the eruption and Inias’ position in the Senate had been tenuous under the rule of Titus, Vespasian’s elder son. If his relationship with Samandriel had been found out, Samandriel would have been put to death for running away and Inias may have met a fate far crueler.

Cas has no way of knowing what happened.

Time seems to have forgotten them, but Castiel never will.

He prays they lived a long and happy life together.

Winter slowly drags into spring and Cas feels his first glimmer of excitement when he receives an acceptance letter into the ancient history graduate program at Stanford. He still doesn’t know why Stanford has such a pull but going to grad school is as good an idea as any.  Just because he lost his dreams, doesn’t mean he can give up entirely. He thinks he might like to teach one day. Spending all day wrapped up in his passions sounds like a good way to spend his life, whether or not he ever finds Dean.

He thinks that maybe he’ll go back to Florida just long enough to get his things from Chuck’s house and say goodbye to Rufus before loading up is Continental and driving west.

He spends less and less time at the boathouses as time passes and Anna gets him to smile more. Eventually, he reaches the point where his misery is manageable enough to fit inside the steel box of his mind where his other painful memories are stored.

He hasn’t had to add to that lockbox in a long time.

\---

“Happy Birthday!” Anna shouts as soon as they trudge into the park for the morning. Other interns and archeologists divert their attention immediately, always eager to celebrate. Any excuse will do.

A chorus of _Happy Birthdays_ follow Anna’s cheerful call and several people clap Cas on the shoulder in solidarity.

Cas rolls his eyes. “Anna,” He says, tone more of a whine than he would care to admit.

“Oh, come on, you’ve been moping for months now.” Anna nudges him with her elbow, her smile never wavering. “Come out tonight, I’m sure there are plenty of people here who would love to help celebrate.”

Cas huffs and shakes his head. “And maybe one or two of them actually care.”

Anna blocks his path and puts her hands firmly on her hips. “Bull,” She says as she glares. “You constantly sell yourself short. More people care about you than you think.”

Cas rolls his eyes again and tries to move past her but she’s insistent in blocking his path. “Anna, please.”

“Jake! Come here a second.” Anna waves over another intern, one who started in their group. “Today is Castiel’s birthday,” She says simply, and Jake immediately turns to Castiel.

“Happy Birthday, man!” He grins and Cas pastes on a placating smile. “I hope you take out some time to enjoy it, you work too hard sometimes!” Jake claps Cas on the shoulder and hurries away before Cas has a chance to answer.

“See, that is exactly what I’m talking about,” Cas says as he gestures to Jake’s back as he walks away.

Anna folds her arms over her chest and fixes him with a glare. “Just wait for it.”

Cas sighs and shakes his head. “We’re going to be late.” He turns away from her without another word and stalks off to his work area. The people here are friendly enough, but he’s kept them at a distance for a reason. He doesn’t care about his birthday, and he knows they don’t either.

He’s almost done here. His internship is over in a week and then he’s taking another short trip to stay in Rome for a week before he gets on a plane bound for home.

He’s been here just short of a full year and has little more to show for it than something nice on his resume and the knowledge that goes with it. Which is wonderful. Fantastic even. But it isn’t what his heart had hoped to find.

He feels farther from Dean than he ever has, and he craves the comfort he’s always found in the other man’s arms.

He’s convinced that no one else will ever be enough.

Nearly everyone working the site wishes him a happy birthday throughout the day but by the end of their workday, something in their tone and too quick glances has him convinced that the others know something he doesn’t.

His first stop once three o’clock rolls around is to find Anna and demand answers.

“Anna, what did you do?” He asks, cornering her just outside their changing area.

She blinks at him innocently. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” She says, and Cas does not believe her. Not one little bit.

“Anna,” He says again, this time with a tone that clearly shows his disbelief.

Anna not only rolls her eyes but her entire head as she snags his elbow and pulls him aside. “It’s just dinner okay. People asked me if you were doing anything and I couldn’t tell them no.”

Cas whines and drops his chin to stare at the ground. “Why couldn’t they have just asked me?”

Anna laughs and shakes her head. “The way you’ve been glaring at everyone since August? They were a little afraid to.”

“Fine,” Cas says with a put-upon sigh. “Where and when?”

Anna lights up with a grin and Cas almost feels bad for complaining. She knows he hates birthdays, and yet here they are. “Aperitivo’s at 5 with just the two of us and Chuck, then dinner at 7 with everyone else at that little deli you love.”

Cas nods his agreement. “Alright. At least there’ll be good food.” He sighs and shakes his head. “I can’t believe you did this.”

Anna’s smile goes soft as she looks at him. “You’re a good man, Castiel. You deserve good things.”

Cas gives her a humoring smile and shakes his head slightly. “If you say so,” He says, not quite believing her persistent optimism but glad for it all the same.

They walk home together and Anna leaves him at the door to his building with a quick hug and a promise to pick him up just before five. He stares after her for a moment, contemplating the consequences of turning right back around and heading for the boathouses.

He doesn’t care about his birthday. Everything he wants had turned to ash almost two thousand years ago.

But he knows Anna is right. He needs to move on. “I’m sorry, Dean,” He says to himself as he finally lets himself into his apartment.

For the first night since his world was incinerated by a pyroclastic blast, he isn’t going to visit the boathouses.

His heart tugs at him to go down there, the habit that has formed in the last nine months is nearly an addiction. The hollow feeling in his chest yawns open as he steps into the shower to scrub away the day’s filth.

Every time his eyes slip closed, he sees golden freckles and vivid green eyes that have his breath catching in his lungs. He wants nothing more than to be able to reach out to Dean across the space that divides them and pull Dean to him.

But he’s becoming more convinced with each passing day that Dean isn’t looking for him. So, what if he’s a year younger?

Dean is such a common name, Cas has searched and searched but found no one across the vast world of social media who matches the right description. He can accept that without a last name or any other modern detail to go on, Dean is going to be nearly impossible to find.

But, Castiel’s name is far more unique. If Dean were looking, Cas thinks he would have been found by now.

“Castiel? I see where your thoughts are going. Stop it.” Chuck points at him as soon as he shuts the door behind him.

Cas groans and leans back against the couch. Somehow, he’s gotten so lost in his spiraling thoughts that he’s ended up sitting on the couch in their living room wearing nothing but a towel.

“Go get dressed. Your friend is going to be here in like, ten minutes. Have you been sitting there since you got home?” Chuck continues as he drops his backpack on the table and pours himself a glass of water.

Cas groans and scrubs his hands over his face. The scratch of stubble makes him groan again. He should have shaved.

“You know, Castiel, maybe you should think about talking to someone. You can’t keep going like this,” Chuck says as he comes to stand in front of where Cas still sits half-naked on the couch.

Cas sighs and shakes his head. “I don’t need to…”

Chuck huffs and puts his hands on his hips. “How long have you been sitting there? Do you even know?” He asks with an arched brow.

Cas’ heart throbs with Chuck's insinuation. He’s losing chunks of time. He doesn’t remember getting out of the shower and coming out here. His body appears clean, he can smell his body wash on him, but he doesn’t remember going through the motions that led him here. “I’m not depressed,” He says at the same time he pushes to his feet.

Chuck moves to block his path. “Oh? Because from here it looks like you might be.”

Cas scowls, anger rising in him too fast to stop the swell inside his chest. “I’m fine!” Cas yells and shoves by. Even as the words leave his mouth, he knows Chuck might be right. But who could blame him for being a bit sad? He’s lost the one thing he holds most dear.

The one thing that has been constant his entire life. The rock he’s leaned on so many times that he’s lost count.

Now he’s alone. Adrift without a place to call his own.

He slams his bedroom door behind him and pelts his towel across the room with a growl. Naked, he stands in the middle of his room with his chest heaving as he fights to keep fresh tears at bay.

Chuck knocks on the door. “Castiel, I just want to see you happy,” He says through the thin wood of the door and Cas turns to glare.

“Dammit,” Cas says to himself as a fresh wave of sadness hits him. His anger disappears as fast as it arrived and a sob bubbles up from his chest. He shakes his head and wipes his eyes, not bothering to respond to Chuck.

He can hear the man’s footsteps fade as he goes to his room and Cas rifles through his closet for something clean to wear. He should have done laundry yesterday.

Chuck was right, Anna will be here soon, and he can’t let her see him like this.

He quickly dresses and tries to tame his hair. He should have styled it when he first got out of the shower, but it’s dry now and impossible to manage. When he gives up on his hair and ventures from his room, Chuck is in the kitchen sipping on freshly brewed coffee.

“Chuck, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean…” Cas says but Chuck stops him with a raised hand.

Chuck gives Cas a small smile and shakes his head. “I know. I worry about you, that’s all.”

Cas gives a half-hearted huff that borders on derisive. It takes most of his willpower to not respond with something along the lines of ‘you shouldn’t,’ but he’s tried that before and he knows that Chuck won’t tolerate that kind of talk.

Cas is saved from further awkward conversation by the knock on the door. “I’ll get it,” Cas says as he breezes by Chuck to let Anna in.

Anna sweeps into the apartment with a broad smile but her smile dims the instant she begins to absorb the tension in the room. “Is everything alright?” She asks with narrowed eyes that dart between Cas and Chuck.

“Fine.” Chuck smiles. “We’re just fine. Are you kids ready to go out?” Chuck asks, looking to Cas, pleading for confirmation.

Cas pinches a frown but forces himself to nod. “Yeah. Where are we going?” Cas asks before forcing his lips into something approximating a smile.

Anna looks at him skeptically for a moment and must decide to take his words at face value instead of delving deeper to find the truth because she hitches her purse higher on her shoulder and gives the name of a little bar just around the corner. One they frequent for espresso in the mornings when Cas is too lazy to heat up his Moka pot.

“Sounds good,” Cas offers with a forced grin. “Just gotta grab my wallet,” he says as he pats his pockets. He must have left it in his room when he was changing.

“I think I saw it in the bathroom,” Chuck says easily, gesturing down the hall.

“Ah, thanks,” Cas says. He escapes the room as quickly as he can to hide his embarrassed flush. He doesn’t want them to worry, but he knows he’s failing miserably.

They’re the only two people who know about his dreams, therefore they’re also the only two people who know how the dreams ended and the reason for this mood swings lately. He doesn’t want their pity.

Cas turns into the bathroom and grimaces at the sight. His wallet sits on the vanity, but his dirty clothes still lay in a heap on the floor. He hadn’t even bothered to pull the shower curtain closed earlier.

He has no recollection of even turning off the water, let alone drying off or how he managed to find himself sitting on the couch in a stupor. His heart clenches when he realizes that maybe Chuck is right.

Maybe his grief has boiled over into something else.

He needs to get himself together.

Cas takes a deep breath and tucks his wallet into his pocket before tugging the shower curtain closed and scooping his clothes up off the floor to throw into his room.

He resolves to start a load of laundry as soon as he gets home tonight.

“Alright, got it.” Cas smiles as he steps back into the living room and he doesn’t miss the concerned looks that Chuck and Anna exchange before Chuck lets out a burst of nervous laughter as he looks away.

Cas pretends that doesn’t hurt like a knife through the heart. “Ready?” He asks, trying his hardest to ignore the sinkhole that’s opened up low in his gut.

“Yes, ready,” Anna says with a burst of false cheer before she quickly lets herself out of the apartment.

“Come on,” Chuck says with a smile as he holds out his arm to drape over Cas’ shoulders. Cas goes willingly, not daring to do otherwise. He’s done enough damage; he can’t afford to lose Chuck and Anna too. “We care about you, Castiel.” Chuck leans close to tell him quietly. “And we’re here for you when you’re ready to talk. Okay?”

Cas nods and sucks in a sharp breath. “Thanks, Chuck,” He says sincerely. He knows he hasn’t been himself; he’s been struggling more than he ever has and he needs to do better. He only has a week left here, then he’s spending another week in Rome, alone, before getting on a plane to go back to Punta Gorda to say goodbye to Rufus and back his bags for California.

He has so much to do.

Cas puts on a brave face as they walk the short block to the bar. He’s stronger than the moping creature he’s been for the better part of the last year. Dean will always be close to his heart, a treasured memory that he will never stop searching for while he pushes through and makes something of himself.

He’ll be someone Dean could be proud of. Someone Chuck, Rufus, Gabriel, Anna, and all of his friends could be proud of.

“Spritz, per favore,” Castiel orders before taking a seat. Chuck orders the same while Anna asks for a simple Prosecco. Cas is going to miss Aperitivo time fiercely when he leaves Italy.

“What are you going to do when we’re done here?” Cas asks Anna as he takes the first sip of his bright orange drink.

Anna shrugs and sips on her Prosecco. “I’ve applied for a few positions with American museums, but I’m thinking of taking a few months to just travel and then go to graduate school. I would love to come back to Italy.”

Cas nods his agreement. He almost wishes he had planned the same. Travelling sounds wonderful, and Cas already knows he’s going to have a hard time leaving Italy behind. There is so much here he still wishes to see.

His interests in Ancient Rome do not end with his dreams or with Dean. The Ancient Empire is fascinating, and Cas would love to see more of what remains. To have a chance to study the remaining ruins would be incredible.

“Travelling is good for the soul,” Chuck says, looking pointedly at both of them.

Cas smiles and dips his chin, considering. “Maybe I should road trip out to Stanford. I’ll have a few months before…”

“You…” Anna starts to say before covering her mouth with her hands. She stares with wide eyes as Cas’ smile turns into a grin.

“You got in?” Chuck asks, excitement already brewing across his features. “And you didn’t tell us?” He quickly schools his expression to give Cas an unamused glare.

Cas nods and tries to pinch his smile into a frown when Anna squeals and pushes out of her chair to drag him into a tight hug.

“Congratulations!” She cheers before pulling away roughly to punch his shoulder just a little too hard. “And that’s for not telling us.” She scowls and Cas lets out his first real laugh in months.

“Sorry, I’ve just been so…well, you know,” Cas says with a shrug.

“Yeah, well, that’s no excuse for keeping such good news from us,” Anna says with a roll of her eyes as she retakes her seat.

“Congratulations, Castiel. You’re going to do great,” Chuck says with a smile. “Although, I wish you had told me sooner. I know some people in California I’d like to introduce you to.”

“Thanks,” Cas says, feeling shy all of a sudden. He knows he should have told them sooner, he found out himself three months ago, but he didn’t want to bring it up. He just hasn’t felt like celebrating.

“Oh crap, we should get going. Everyone is going to be wondering where we are,” Anna says she checks her phone.

Cas looks over her shoulder and sees that it’s already seven. “If we must,” He says with a sense of put-upon dread.

“Oh, you love it,” Anna smiles and gives Cas a shove, drawing another laugh from him. “Now, if you can quit being a gloomy Gus for a couple of hours you might actually enjoy yourself.”

Cas looks to Chuck for help but the man just shrugs. “Hey, you’re going and I’m buying, so don’t give me that look.”

Cas chuckles and shakes his head. “Well, in that case, I might have to order myself a bottle of wine.”

Chucks laughs. “Yeah, you do that.”

Anna shoos Cas away when the bill comes, snatching the paper from the table before Cas even has a chance. “Your birthday, my treat,” She says as he hands the server the money and tells him to keep the change.

“Thank you, Anna,” Cas says as he tucks his wallet away.

The restaurant is only three blocks away, and a chorus of cheers rises the instant Cas follows Anna through the door.

He smiles like he knows he should, and eventually, the gesture begins to feel genuine. No one pressures him to drink, they all know him too well for that, but the wine flows freely amongst his colleagues. They all cheer and order another round when Cas announces that he was accepted into the graduate program at Stanford, and then cheer again when Cas orders the bottle of wine he had threatened Chuck with.

Naturally, no one lets Cas (or Chuck) pay for anything.

Cas drinks his bottle of wine and shares another with Anna after that.

By the time their server brings out a large slice of Tiramisu with a single candle lit on the top, Cas is giggling along to every joke. “You gotta make a wish, Castiel!” Someone says a little too loudly, but Cas isn’t about to argue.

He thinks to himself for a moment, but it doesn’t take long to come up with his wish.

“I wish…” He starts but he’s quickly hushed.

“You can’t tell us!” Someone shouts and Cas laughs and shakes his head.

He closes his eyes and takes a deep breath, thinking his wish with the reverence of prayer. Blowing the candle out takes almost no effort and a chorus of cheers rings across the room. Cas grins and digs into his dessert.

He leans over to Anna, scooting close enough to whisper in her ear. “Thank you for doing this,” He says quietly.

Anna turns to him with a warm smile. “What are friends for?”

By the time he and Chuck leave, Cas is nearly stumbling and smiling broadly.

“Coffee, or are you good?” Chuck asks after they get back to their apartment.

Cas yawns and stretches his arms high over his head. “M’good. Tired,” Cas says. He doesn’t think he’s had this much to drink in one sitting, ever, and his entire body feels light and fuzzy with the sensation.

“You sure?” Chuck asks with a raised brow

Cas nods and hums as he turns toward his room. “G’night,” He says, his words slurred slightly at the edges.

“Hold up,” Chuck says before Cas can disappear into this room. “Drink this and take these,” He holds out a tall glass of water and two little pills.

Cas nods and reaches for the offered items. He tosses the painkillers back and forces himself to drink the entire glass of water. “Thanks,” He says with a lazy smile.

Chuck plucks the glass from his hand and refills it in the bathroom as Cas stands watching. “Put this by the bed, try and drink it during the night,” He says as he hands the glass back over.

Cas nods his understanding before leaving Chuck behind in favor of flopping onto his bed.

He dutifully sets the glass of water on his nightstand and carefully strips down to his boxers before crawling under the covers and letting his eyes slide closed.

\---

_Cas blinks his eyes but the darkness surrounding him makes it impossible to tell if his eyes are open or closed. Inky black silence surrounds him as he pushes to his feet. His body feels weightless, almost as if he’s suspended somewhere above the ground._

_He narrows his eyes, trying to see through the darkness for anything discernible but nothing begins to form. “What the hell?” He says to himself as he spins in place. He knows intrinsically that he’s dreaming, he has to be._

_The silence surrounding him is deafening and his ears feel tight like he’s underwater and yet he can breathe perfectly fine. He closes his eyes and imagines that he’s in a field, somewhere green and lush. He isn’t sure why, but he needs bright sunlight to cut through the darkness almost as much as he needs the air in his lungs._

_Distantly, he begins to hear a series of dull thumps drawing closer and he feels an urgent need to find the source of the noise. He begins to run toward the sound, calling out as he picks up speed. Slowly, the blackness gives way to the grey light of early dawn and the ground begins to soften under his feet._

_Wherever he’s going, he knows he needs to be there._

_The sound of footfalls stops suddenly, and Cas stops as well. He strains to hear, something, anything, to tell him where the other person went. A deep sense of urgency pushes him forward._

_He walks, slowly now, head turning this way and that, trying to search for the other person he knows he heard._

_“Hello?” He calls out, gaze still searching but he sees no one._

_His feet stop moving of their own accord when he notices the tall trees at the edge of the clearing that has appeared around him. The sky is blue and soft grass is underfoot, but still no sign of another person._

_Cas turns in place and tries to call out again but no sound escapes his lips. Panic begins to set in as the ground softens further beneath his feet. He tries to keep walking, but his feet refuse to move forward._

_He turns again and his heart lurches in his chest._

_He isn’t alone._

_Bright green eyes stare back in him, mirroring his own shock. Cas takes in the man, the one person he would recognize above all others._

_Snug jeans wrapped around perfect bowlegs and a simple green flannel shirt, unbuttoned over a light undershirt. A look Cas has never seen on Dean before, but here he is._

_He tries to call to Dean, tries to reach out and step forward, but his feet begin to sink into the muddy earth._

_Dean watches him helplessly with a wild-eyed stare. His mouth moves but no sound comes out as he reaches for Cas._

_The mud holds them both in place, refusing to give them the solace of each other’s touch. Cas watches helplessly as Dean struggles, fighting to reach him._

\---

“Dean!” Cas calls out as he sits upright in bed. Whatever fuzziness might have been left from the wine disappears immediately as Cas throws the covers off and climbs from his bed.

He swallows hard and shakes his head, trying to make sense of his dream.

That was the first dream he’s had of Dean since the eruption, and it was nothing like the others. Dean was dressed in modern clothes. Dean was trying to get to him.

Cas stumbles from his room and into the bathroom. The harsh lights hurt his eyes, but he stares at himself in the mirror through narrowed slits.

“Castiel?” Chuck’s voice drifts down the hall and Cas can hear the man’s footsteps drawing closer.

Cas splashes his face with cold water, trying to collect himself and slow his pounding heart.

Chuck comes to a stop in the doorway to the bathroom and shields his eyes against the bright light. “Are you okay?”

Cas nods with a laugh. “Dean. I saw him.” His racing heart turns into a deep giddiness brought on by intense relief. “He’s alive.”

Chuck narrows his eyes and cocks his head. “In your dreams?”

“No. I mean, yes, I just saw him in my dreams, but he’s alive _now._ You were right. He’s out there somewhere and I think he’s looking for me.” Cas explains with a flurry of excited hand gestures.

Castiel saw recognition clearly in Dean’s eyes. Dean saw him, knew who he was. Dean was trying to get to him.

“Okay…” Chuck says as he rubs the sleep from his eyes.

“My wish,” Cas says, shaking his head. “I wished to see him again.”

Chuck shakes his head and the confusion in his gaze turns to pity. “Oh, Castiel. I think maybe you had too much to drink.”

Cas gapes at him, not believing that after everything Chuck has said over the years, that his mentor doesn’t believe him now. “He was there, Chuck,” Cas says in defense. “You don’t believe me,” Cas says with an air of finality. His brows pinch and his thoughts grow dark as he stares at Chuck. “Did you ever really believe that Dean is out there?”

Chuck glances down and his cheeks flush.

A knot tightens in Cas’ stomach. “You didn’t, did you? You lied to me.” Cas clenches his jaw and glares.

“I’ve always believed your dreams are special,” Chuck says, finally meeting Castiel’s gaze. “You’re a brilliant young man, Castiel, I couldn’t let you waste your life away. You needed encouragement. Maybe Dean is out there, I hope he is, but you told me yourself how crazy that idea sounds.” Chuck speaks firmly and his words slice through Castiel painfully.

Cas sucks in a harsh breath and furrows his brow. He can’t deal with this right now. The feeling of betrayal stabs through his heart and he feels his chest tightening. “I’m going back to bed,” He says flatly as he pushes past Chuck to shut himself in his room.

“Castiel,” Chuck says as he knocks but Cas ignores him. If Chuck doesn’t believe, then fine.

Cas doesn’t need to rely on faith anymore. He _knows._

Cas lays back on his bed and stares at the ceiling. Chuck’s footsteps fade away, leaving Cas alone in the silence of his room. He takes a deep breath and lets it out on a sigh before he whispers into the darkness.

“Don’t give up on me Dean, I’m trying.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Poor Cas, I couldn't help but feel his despondence while writing this chapter. Everything hurt so much and then Chuck just had to go and be a dick. Anyway, I'm going to try and get the final chapter up before the end of the week.
> 
> I'm presently writing the final chapter of another long AU that I've been picking at for a few months and I should start posting that in a couple of weeks. It has Dean and Sam as the adopted sons of a Norse Jarl. Dean is his heir to the Jarldom and leading his first raid where he encounters Castiel, a Saxon monk that Dean just has to have. Unfortunately for Dean, Cas absolutely despises him.
> 
> As always, your comments mean the world to me.


	16. All Roads Lead Here

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Castiel's dream of a modern Dean has given him hope and a sense of peace. He finally begins to feel like everything might be okay but little does he know, he has one more big surprise waiting for him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here we are! The end of main story before Cas and Dean get their happily ever after. 
> 
> A HUGE Thank You to everyone who has stuck with me over these past few months and for all of your amazing comments. I never would have been able to keep going with this story without you.

When Cas wakes the morning after his dream of a modern Dean, he feels a renewed sense of determination. He has less than a week of work left here, and he is going to make the most of it. 

 

He’s given up on the idea of finding Dean here. He wouldn’t be lucky enough to have a fairy tale moment where he looks up from his work and Dean is standing there, right in front of him and they run to each other with hearts in their eyes. 

 

As nice as that would be, Cas refuses to even entertain the notion. 

 

Real-life doesn’t work like that. 

 

He stays in his room as long as possible even after he’s ready to walk out the door. He can hear Chuck rummaging around in the kitchen and he isn’t in any hurry to face the man after what Chuck had told him the night before. 

 

Finally, he has to be out the door in less than five minutes, so he takes a deep breath and lets himself out of his bedroom. As predicted, Chuck is in the kitchen, but Cas makes a direct line past him. 

 

He’ll pick up coffee and a pastry on his way to the site. 

 

“Castiel, about last night…” Chuck says but Cas waves him off. 

 

“I gotta go, running a little late,” Cas says as he walks past the kitchen and out the door. 

He leaves Chuck standing with a disappointed expression, but Cas doesn’t have the heart or the energy to deal with that right now. Chuck lied to him, strung him along on a fantasy and Castiel let him. He knew the idea of his dreams being connected to his present was borderline insane, and yet he chose to let Chuck convince him that maybe Dean is out there. 

 

Chuck gave him a reason to try harder to make something of himself. 

 

Cas can’t quite find it in himself to be angry at the man. He feels hurt and betrayed, but anger doesn’t even begin to register. 

 

Chuck’s lies led him here. 

 

Even if Chuck lied about thinking Dean was looking for him, that doesn’t change the truth. 

 

Dean  _is_  out there, somewhere. 

 

“Anna!” Cas calls when he sees the back of his friend’s head, making her way toward the archeological park. 

 

Anna turns with a wide smile and waits for him to catch up. “How are you feeling this morning?” She asks, giving Cas a quick once over. 

 

“I’m fine,” He says with a shrug. “What about you?” He asks, giving her the same treatment. He long red hair is tied back in a messier bun than usual, and there are faint dark circles under her eyes. 

 

Anna shrugs. “Nothing a little coffee can’t fix,” She says easily, gesturing to the bar on the corner. 

 

They wait at the counter while the barista makes their espressos and Cas nibbles on a sfogliatella while Anna peels her banana. The flaky pastry is possibly one of Castiel’s favorite foods in and around Naples. The little shell-shaped, cheese-filled delight is so flaky and buttery that it melts in his mouth as his eyes close in rapture. 

 

Anna huffs a laugh. “You need a minute alone with that?” 

 

Cas glares at her through barely open eyes. “Shuttup,” He mutters after she shakes her head fondly and takes a bite of her banana. 

 

“Hey, birthday boy!” A colleague enters and holds up a single finger to indicate his order. The barista nods as he slides the two espressos across to Anna and Castiel. 

 

Cas rolls his eyes and grumbles as he accepts his coffee. “That was yesterday.” 

 

“Still. It was good to see you smiling again,” Reggie claps Cas on the shoulder and slides the euro across the counter to the barista with a smile. 

 

Cas gives the man an amused smile and nods before taking his coffee in hand. The heat burns his tongue and throat as he downs the drink in two quick swallows and he sets the cup on the counter with a grimace. 

 

Anna giggles as she fixes hers with a sprinkle of sugar and a dash of cream. “I don’t know why you take it that way if you’re going to make that face,” She says as she takes the first delicate sip of hers with a pleased smile playing across her lips. 

 

“I like it,” Cas says, downing half his water in a single swig. He turns back to the remains of his sfogliatella and picks the sweet pastry apart with his fingers as Anna slowly sips her thimble-sized cup of coffee. 

 

“Right,” Anna says as she rolls her eyes mockingly. 

 

They’ve had this discussion dozens of times, Cas knows she’ll never believe him. He likes the bright pop of acidity across his tongue. Good espresso isn’t bitter like so much American style coffee and something about the ritual is comforting. 

 

“It’s more manly to drink it straight,” Reggie butts in as the barista sets his shot in front of him. 

Anna laughs, barely opening her mouth as the sound passes her lips and shakes her head. “Oh really?” She turns to him with playful mockery dancing in her gaze. 

 

Cas shrugs indifferently. He is not about to rob Anna of the opportunity to take the patriarchy down a peg. She might never forgive him. 

 

“Francesco?” Anna croons sweetly to the barista. “Come prendi il caffe?” She asks how he takes his coffee. 

 

The man leans against the bar and shrugs. “Due zuccheri,” He says simply and Cas struggles not to smile too broadly. 

 

Anna turns to Reggie with a satisfied smile. “See, two sugars,” She says as she gestures to Francesco. “Grazie.” 

 

“Prego,” Francesco welcomes her and gives a little smile that has Cas arching his brow when he looks back to catch Anna’s blush. 

 

“That doesn’t prove anything,” Reggie dismisses as he downs his coffee quickly. 

 

Anna smiles and straightens her spine. “Cas, how do you drink yours when you’re not eating pure sugar?” She looks to Cas and fixes the last bites of his pastry with a baleful glare. 

 

Cas shields his breakfast from her prying eyes. “Leave my sugar alone,” He says dramatically. 

Anna raises a brow and Cas huffs while Francesco laughs. 

 

“Cappucino con tutto lo zuccheri,” Francesco supplies a little too easily and Cas flushes crimson. 

 

“I do not use all your sugar,” Cas defends, and Anna nearly howls with laughter as Francesco chuckles playfully. 

 

Reggie laughs at Cas’ expense too and shakes his head. “Fine, fine, sweet is just fine for men too,” He says as he claps Cas on the shoulder. 

 

Cas takes a glance at his phone and shoves the last bit of his breakfast in his mouth. “Grazie, Francesco,” He says as soon as he forces the remains his pastry down his throat. 

 

Anna notices the time as well and slides a five euro note across the counter for breakfast and Cas does the same. 

 

“Si vendiamo domini!” Francesco calls behind them as they hurry through the door and out onto the street. 

 

Reggie waves back at their barista and promises that yes, they’ll be back tomorrow. Over the last year, they’ve all gotten to know their favorite barista just a little bit. Cas only wishes the man worked later in the day as well. 

 

The young woman who works in the afternoons never fails to flirt with him no matter how disinterested he is and the older men who staff the bar in the evenings are friendly enough, but not like Francesco. 

 

For now, Cas has a long day ahead of him and he feels better than he has in months. 

A slow smile forms and his stomach flips when he remembers his dream. Dean is out there somewhere. 

 

“What has you so happy this morning?” Anna asks with an arched brow. 

 

Cas doesn’t want to say too much with Reggie walking with them, but he can’t resist saying  _something._  “Just a good dream is all,” He says with a casual shrug but the seriousness in his eyes tell a different story. 

 

“Must have been an  _extra_  good dream for you to be grinning like that,” Reggie says with a wag of his brows. 

 

Anna rolls her eyes and Cas shakes his head with a huff of laughter. 

 

“It’s not like that,” Cas says playfully with a fond shake of his head. 

 

Reggie shrugs. “Whoever she is, I’m happy for you.” 

 

Cas laughs a little harder at that. “What makes you think there's a girl involved?” Cas asks, because he’s a glutton for punishment apparently. 

 

Reggie arches a brow. “Well, I only know one thing that would make me smile like that.” 

Cas shakes his head with a shrug and Anna laughs openly. 

 

“What?” Reggie asks, realizing that he’s clearly missing something. “Not you two...” He looks between them with widened eyes as if connecting dots that only he can see. 

 

Anna quickly gives Cas her best doe eyes and bats her lashes, sending them both into a juvenile fit of laughter that has Reggie huffing with annoyance. “Trust me, Reg, there's nothing between me and Cas,” Anna finally says. 

 

“Yeah, she’s really not my type,” Cas says easily, shaking his head. 

 

“Not into redheads?” Reggie asks, still clearly clueless. 

 

Cas shrugs. “Redheads are fine,” He says, pretending his words aren’t a complete lie. “It’s more the whole  _female_  aspect that troubles me,” Cas says a little too innocently and Reggie’s jaw drops open before snapping shut with an audible click. 

 

“Oh,” Reggie says, his startled expression drawing another bout of laughter from Anna. 

Cas’ heart races, wondering why on earth he just said that. He doesn’t hide his sexuality, but he doesn’t talk about it either. Truthfully, anyone other than Dean holds minimal interest, but whenever Cas has imagined being intimate with someone, the shape of a man has filled his fantasy. 

 

Finally, Reggie shrugs. “So, then whoever  _he_  is, I’m happy for you,” Reggie says with another wag of his brows as he attempts to get his old joke right. 

 

Cas finally laughs, partly out of relief and partly out of genuine amusement. “Thank you,” He says. “Dean is very special to me.” 

 

Cas’ heart trips and stumbles as he mentions Dean’s name aloud to someone who knows nothing of his dreams. At least with Reggie, Cas can play Dean off as someone waiting for him back home. 

 

“Dean again?” Anna smacks his shoulder with a hiss. “We are so talking about that later, mister,” She says quietly with a hopeful gleam in her eye and Cas swallows hard, knowing that she will not take no for an answer. 

 

“Well, he’s a lucky guy to have someone like you,” Reggie says sincerely and Cas’ heart swells until he feels it might just burst. 

 

He gives Reggie an easy smile that he knows fails miserably to encompass how glad he is for the simple acceptance. 

 

The rest of the day goes quickly, and Cas ends it by visiting the boathouses. 

 

The trek down there, after all the tourists have left for the day, gets easier each day. The memories of that single night haunt him, but he has years of better memories to draw from. Today, instead of sitting inside the cavernous space that he and Dean fatefully took shelter in, he seeks out the place where Lucius took them to fish as boys. 

 

A swampy ditch is all the remains of the glorious waterfront from Castiel’s past, but he settles himself along the metal grate that stands in place of the wood that was destroyed so many years ago. 

 

If he closes his eyes, he can almost picture the crystal-clear water that bears a shade of blue that escapes description. The distant sound of gulls calling from the modern shore almost sound close enough to see if not for the concrete wall separating them. 

 

“Where are you, Dean?” Cas says to himself. With his eyes closed and his breaths coming with measured slowness, he lets his mind wander. 

 

Dean had been wearing a light grey shirt with lettering on it under his flannel, but Cas was too focused on Dean’s face to notice his shirt in any real detail. 

 

Cas curses that fact now. He thinks maybe the shirt said something about Kansas, but he can’t be certain. Is Dean connected to Kansas somehow? Does he live there? 

 

Cas’ brow furrows in frustration as his eyes clench tighter. 

 

“Castiel?” Anna’s voice calls to him but Cas does his best to ignore her beyond a simple gesture with his hand to acknowledge her presence. 

 

He doesn’t bother opening his eyes when her footsteps approach, or when he feels her settling into the space next to him on the walkway. 

 

“So, you dreamed of Dean?” She asks and Cas nods solemnly. “Did you two survive the eruption?” She asks with hope coloring her tone. 

 

Cas shakes his head. “No. This was...different. Modern, but nowhere I recognize.” 

 

“Modern?” Anna asks and Cas can picture the way her brows are arched in question. 

 

He nods and finally opens his eyes. “I think we were on the Plains of Asphodel but I can’t be sure. Dean was wearing jeans and a flannel shirt.” 

 

Anna pinches a frown. “What did he say?” She asks, turning to face him with open questions in her gaze. 

 

Cas shrugs. “He didn’t say anything. He tried, we both did, but we couldn’t speak for some reason,” He says with a frown. Why couldn’t they talk to each other? He could have told Dean exactly where to find him. 

 

“So, what are you going to do now?” Anna asks, tone lacking judgment. Cas had told her before how he was trying to find Dean, but without a last name, the feat is all but impossible. 

His answer is simple. “Keep looking.” 

\--- 

The next three days pass much the same. He rises early, avoids Chuck, and has coffee with Anna before they trudge to the archeological park. 

 

He’s forgiven Chuck, really, he has. The man meant no harm. Cas refuses to hold a grudge against someone who accidentally hurt him by trying to help him. 

 

He’s been through too much to stay angry with someone who only wanted the best for him. 

Still, he isn’t ready to face the man despite Chuck’s repeated apologies. 

 

Another day is done and Cas only has a few more before he turns in his lanyard and moves out of the apartments reserved for researchers. 

 

The dream he had a few nights ago still occupies the forefront of his thoughts, but his time here is running out. 

 

Dean isn’t going to come. 

 

He’s certain of it. 

 

That knowledge fails to keep him from his nightly walk to the boathouses. Of all the places here, this one holds the most pain and yet the most comfort. He could opt to visit the home that was his during his past life, but that wasn’t home to them. 

 

His parent’s villa is just another place. Another memory. 

 

Their true home was in the heart of Rome. Just a few blocks north of the ancient Forum. 

 

The crowds inside Herculaneum have thinned for the evening but the park is not yet closed and Cas anticipates having a slight audience tonight. 

 

But that’s fine. He works here. He’s allowed to skirt around the barriers that keep the tourists away from areas that are either unsafe or too fragile for them to tread. 

 

The metal walkway to the far boathouses, the ones not containing skeletal casts of those who perished in the eruption, is deserted as it should be and Cas makes the walk quickly. 

He needs privacy for his nightly visit. 

 

His brows furrow when he notices the door covering the boathouse that means so much to him is already open. He is utterly certain he closed it up the night before. Even if he hadn’t, someone else would have noticed and secured the entrance. 

 

He walks slower, quieter as he approaches and a flash of anger rises in him when he realizes someone has invaded the space he’s come to consider as sacred. He takes a moment to glare the back of the intruder’s head as the man kneels in the earth almost exactly where Cas had intended to sit. 

 

“I’m sorry, this area is closed,” Castiel says, injecting flat impatience into his tone. He is so tired of tourists thinking they can stray from the path whenever they please. These areas are closed to the public for a reason. 

 

Cas watches the intruder climb to his feet and is about to chastise him further until the man finally turns around. 

 

Whatever complaints Cas was about to voice die in his throat when his gaze lands on eyes that nearly glow in the waning sunlight. The apple green color has Cas’ mouth going dry before he even takes in the dusting of freckles across the man’s cheeks or his perfect bow of a mouth and plush lips. 

 

He would know this man anywhere. 

 

“Cas,” Dean whispers as he reaches for Cas and then just as quickly clamps his hand over his mouth as he stares. 

 

Dean wears an open front flannel, just like in his dream and his eyes are comically wide with the faintest trace of red around the edges as if he had been crying. Cas’ hand reaches to cover his mouth, partly afraid he might break into sobs at any moment. 

 

Cas swallows hard around the knot in his throat and forces himself to take a step forward. He pries his hand from his mouth and reaches out, beckoning to Dean in a silent plea. 

 

He needs to know that his imagination isn’t playing a cruel trick. His eyes water and his throat seems incapable of forming words in the face of the man standing before him. His lips refuse to part, forcing him to take rapid breaths through his nose as his heart hammer in his chest. 

Dean follows Castiel’s example and rushes toward him with outstretched fingers. 

 

Cas swears the earth moves beneath him at the first brush of their hands, that first electric touch of Dean’s skin to his own. This doesn’t feel real, this can’t be real, but Dean doesn’t stop moving forward until their chests come together firmly. 

 

Dean’s fingers bury themselves in Castiel’s dusty t-shirt and Cas wraps his arms tightly around Dean’s middle. They hold tight to one another, not speaking and barely breathing as they simply take each other in. 

 

Eventually, Cas pulls back to stare into those eyes he knows so well. “Hello, Dean,” He says, watching Dean’s expression light up from within. 

 

“Cas,” Dean says and Cas’ bewildered smile turns into a slow grin. 

 

Suddenly, Dean is tangling his fingers in the too-long hair at the back of Cas’ head and dragging him forward into a kiss so unlike anything Cas has ever imagined. Cas hums into the contact as their lips slowly drag together and all of Castiel’s misplaced pieces begin to right themselves. 

 

This is new and familiar at the same time. He’s kissed Dean thousands of times and yet this is the first time. Old and new, coming together to align their past with their present and paving the way for a future together. 

 

Cas nearly cries into the kiss as their lips brush gently, he feels a such a tangled swell of emotion filling his soul from the bottom up until he forgets to breathe. All he knows is the simple joy of finally holding Dean in his arms and having Dean cling to him just as tightly. 

 

Dean finally pulls back and Cas narrowly resists chasing his lips, wanting their kiss to continue but he knows they need to do more than kiss and hold each other tightly. 

 

They need to talk. 

 

Dean tilts his chin skyward with a delighted little laugh that Cas fully agrees with. “You’re real,” He says in a breathy whisper before turning his awe-struck gaze back to Castiel. 

 

Cas nods. “I am,” He says with a widening smile. “So are you,” He adds, hesitantly reaching out to brush his fingertips along the ridge of Dean’s cheekbone. 

 

“How is this possible? Dean asks with disbelief coloring his features, nearly overshadowing his joy. 

 

Cas has thought many times about what he might say if he and Dean were to meet but nothing can capture what he feels in this moment. His joy is too great, his awe is too overwhelming. “I don’t intend to question the whims of the gods. We promised we would find each other, no matter how long it took and now that I have you in my arms, I am not letting you go until death takes you from me,” Cas says and he swears he’s somehow channeling his past self. His words are his own, and yet they extend far deeper than anything he has ever come up with himself. 

 

Dean stares at him for a moment, tears welling in his eyes to make them glassy before he launches himself at Cas once again. His arms hold Cas tightly and Castiel squeezes back just as firmly. 

 

He finally has Dean. 

Finally. 

 

“You have to meet my brother,” Dean mutters after a few minutes. “He’s never going to believe me otherwise,” Dean says as he pulls back to meet Castiel’s eyes. 

 

A knife twists in Cas’ gut as he looks to Dean with confusion that quickly morphs into grief. 

“Cas? What’s wrong?” Dean asks, holding Cas at arm’s length as if he’s afraid Cas is going to disappear at any moment. 

 

Cas gives Dean a sad smile. “I did not know you have a brother,” Cas says quietly, the words pain him. He never stopped to consider how little he would know the Dean of this time. “For all that I know you, I realize we don’t know each other at all,” Cas mutters as his eyes water. 

 

Dean gives Cas a pained look but nods. “Then we’ll learn. Cas, I’ve been in love with you since I was fifteen. Yeah, we’re strangers in this time, but you can’t tell me you don’t feel something deeper between us.” Dean’s voice trembles and his eyes water as he speaks and Cas can’t help but wonder if maybe Dean is as terrified as he is. 

 

Cas takes a deep breath, buying himself a moment to compose himself. “We share a very profound bond,” Cas says, immediately hating how the words sound but he can’t think of anything more poignant to say. Whatever influence his past self may have had on his ability to express himself seems to have vanished. 

 

Dean gives him a shy smile like Cas hadn’t just failed miserably in conveying his thoughts. “Then we will figure everything out. I need you, Cas. The thought of losing you again, I can’t…” Dean trails off as his eyes water with unshed tears. 

 

Cas sucks in a harsh breath when the pain on Dean’s face becomes obvious. His fears that his love would be unrequited vanishes at the first sight of a single tear rolling slowly down Dean’s freckled cheek. Cas feels his eyes water. There is so much Dean needs to know about him. 

 

He cannot begin to explain the pain he carries deep in his heart, or how much his friends have helped him heal. Dean needs to know, but now isn’t the time for such stories. Dean needs to know something though; he needs to understand what he would be getting into with Cas. He needs to give Dean a chance to walk away no matter that losing Dean again might just kill him. 

 

“When I was growing up, the dreams I had of you and the hope that you were out there somewhere are the only things that gave me the strength to survive. Dean, I…the things I’ve had to do,” Cas says, trailing off and shaking his head sadly as he prepares to tell Dean some of the worst of his crimes and braces himself for rejection. 

 

“I don’t care. Cas, I don’t,” Dean interrupts and takes hold of Cas’ hand to draw him closer. “I’ve always been yours. Nothing can change that.” 

 

Cas can barely believe Dean’s words. Surely, once he learns some of Cas’ past, he’ll at least consider changing his mind. But if this Dean is even half as stubborn as the Dean in his dreams, Cas has little to worry about. It’s that hope that he clings to when he tentatively wraps his arms around Dean’s back to hold him closer. 

 

Cas lets out a cleansing sigh when Dean returns his embrace and Cas can’t help but tuck his nose into the crook of Dean’s neck and just breathe the man in. Cas’ eyes close in bliss as he simply revels in Dean’s touch. His heart flutters and threatens to fly away as he holds Dean close. He never dared to let himself imagine what this might feel like, but he knows finally having the chance to hold Dean in his arms is better than anything he could have dreamt of. 

 

Dean breaks the quiet with a gentle huff and a disbelieving shake of his head. “Come meet my brother, he just took the bus up Vesuvius. He’ll be waiting for me soon,” Dean begins to ramble before pulling back. “Unless you’re here with someone…” Dean’s eyes widen with the traitorous thought and he glances around warily, searching for someone he might have missed. 

 

Cas shakes his head, wanting to dispel Dean’s worry as quickly as possible. “I work here,” He says with a shrug as if being here was completely incidental. “I am scheduled to leave in a few days, although, now that you’re here my plans might be changing,” Cas says while staring deep in Dean’s eyes, trying to convey a deeper meaning. 

 

“You work here?” Dean cocks his head, looking both confused and intrigued. 

 

Cas’ heart clenches with just how handsome Dean is, and the faint confusion coloring his features reminds him so much of the man he knows from his dreams. Cas needs to admit the truth. “I came here in hopes of finding you,” He says with a slight tilt to his head. 

“How long?” Dean looks taken aback and Cas shifts nervously on his feet. 

 

“A year,” Castiel answers a little too quickly. “My internship is almost up.” He hurries to explain, feeling like a sixteen-year-old with a crush that he’s terrified will reject him at any moment. “I’ve been coming down here every afternoon. Something told me you would come eventually, I just needed to be patient.” Cas says, nearly rambling as he strokes a thumb over Dean’s cheek with disbelief still clear in his eyes. 

 

“A year,” Dean mutters as his eyes slide closed. “Then you were here when…” Dean trails off as the pain of his memories cloud his expression. 

 

Cas nods, swallowing down his pain surrounding that memory. “I don’t think I left this spot for days,” Cas mutters. He can barely remember the days following his final dream. His grief left little more than a thick haze surrounding that time. 

 

Dean throws his arms around Cas’ shoulders with a pained whine. “I was almost catatonic for weeks,” Dean says softly and stares blankly off into the distance. 

 

Cas releases a heavy breath and reclaims the space in the crook of Dean’s neck as he wraps his arms around Dean’s waist and the two simply hold each other for a long moment. 

 

“What do we do now?” Dean finally dares to ask, a myriad of emotions playing out across his features. 

 

Cas takes a cautious step back and swallows hard. His heart races at what Dean might think, but he needs to make it clear that Dean is more important than whatever petty plans he may have had.  “I was scheduled to start at Stanford in the fall to begin a Master’s in Ancient history. But wherever you are going is where I shall….” Cas says but trails off when Dean lets out a soft gasp and his eyes widen. 

 

“You…Stanford?” Dean says, shock and awe causing his cheeks to redden. 

Cas’ heart sinks, certain that somehow Stanford was the worst choice he could have made. “Yes, but I understand if you don’t wish to…” 

 

Dean silences Cas with a fierce kiss that has Cas squeaking in surprise before moaning in delight. “Me too. Stanford, I mean,” Dean breaks away long enough to get the words out and Cas’ heart absolutely soars. 

 

Cas’ brow furrows as he takes in Dean’s words. “You mean…” Dean also going to Stanford would be too perfect, too serendipitous. 

 

Dean grins. “We’re destined to be together,” Dean says with a laugh that has Cas wanting to drop to his knees and praise every god available. 

 

“Castiel? I knew I’d find you down here…oh, hello?” A familiar voice comes from behind them and for the first time in days, Cas doesn’t cringe at the sound of it. 

 

“Chuck,” Cas says as he turns, twining Dean’s fingers with his own in the same motion. “This is Dean.” 

 

Chuck gapes like a fish for a moment, and Cas barely restrains himself from gloating. “Wait. Dean as in  _DEAN_ , Dean?  _THE_  Dean?” His hands fidget nervously in front of him as his eyes dart between the two young men. He looks like he wants to be anywhere but here. 

 

“Yes,” Cas says with a wide grin plastered on his face at the same time Dean lets out a short burst of laughter. 

 

Chuck nods shakily and offers a small smile. “I had a feeling…” He starts to mutter but he must notice Cas’ scowl of annoyance because the next words out of his mouth are directed to Dean. “I, uh…I’ll just leave the two of you alone now. I’m sure you have a lot to…discuss,” He rambles, and Cas finds himself fully forgiving his mentor for his lies. 

 

“Chuck is…” Cas starts before scrubbing a hand over his face, uncertain as to how to describe that relationship. “Chuck is the closest I’ve ever had to a father figure.” Cas lets out a small huff of laughter, realizing the words are true as soon as they pass his lips. “He’s the one who convinced me to come here and apply to Stanford. He always believed there was more to my dreams…” Or at least he convinced me that he did, Castiel thinks to add but doesn’t. 

 

“Sounds like I owe him a thank you,” Dean hums as he turns back to Cas. 

 

“He never thought my dreams were anything strange. He always seemed to know…” Cas rambles aloud before cutting himself off abruptly, catching himself in his own accidental lie. For a moment, he nearly forgot that Chuck had only told him that to give him hope. 

 

“I think we both owe him a thank you,” Cas says letting himself smile. Dean’s eyes sparkle in the waning light inside the ruins. The sun is sinking over the wall that stands tall next to them, shrouding the area in shadow. 

 

Cas looks toward the tunnel that would lead them out of the ancient city and into the modern one. “Do you have plans for dinner?” Cas asks with a slight tilt of his head. 

Dean grins fondly as he stares and shakes his head. “Sammy and I hadn’t gotten that far,” He says simply. 

 

“Let me take you both out for some of the best pizza you’ll ever have,” Cas offers, swallowing hard around the fear that Dean won’t want to hang around. “I would very much like to meet your brother, if that is okay,” Cas hurries to add as he drops his gaze. They barely know each other, perhaps Dean’s invitation to meet his brother wasn’t entirely thought through. Maybe Dean will have changed his mind. 

 

Dean barks a laugh and nods as he grasps Cas’ hand tightly and begins to lead him from the boathouse. “I want nothing more than for you to meet my brother, my best friends, my parents and everyone else I know.” 

 

Cas huffs a disbelieving laugh but he isn’t’ about to question his good fortune. Dean is here, anything else is simply a blissful bonus. He squeezes Dean’s hand. “Good, because I don’t think I could let you go now that I have you.” 

 

Dean gives Cas a soft smile but mischief twinkles in his eyes. “We’ll see if you’re still saying that once you get to know me.” Dean shrugs. “This version at least.” 

 

Castiel stops and tugs Dean so that they’re facing one another. He cannot bear to hear Dean think that there could be anything he might do that could drive Cas away. “I am not so naïve as to think there will not be surprises along the way, but I know your soul, Dean. I know  _you_  underneath everything else and I have been in love with you for most of my life, even when I thought you were merely a figment of my imagination. I highly doubt  _anything_  could make me change my mind about us.” Cas smiles to himself as the influence of his ancient self seems to return. 

 

His feels like he’s floating, like both sides of himself are merging as one in Dean’s presence. He wonders if maybe Dean feels the same. 

 

“Jesus, Cas.” Dean’s jaw drops and he stares at Castiel with a look of disbelief etched across his features. He searches Castiel’s eyes for any kernel of doubt but there is nothing there for him to find. Cas means every word and more. Dean flushes crimson and his fingers squeeze Castiel’s that much tighter. “I, uh…I’ve always been yours,” He finally manages to mumble, and a tender smile begins to grow on Cas’ lips. 

 

Dean is every bit as eloquent and endearing as he was in Castiel’s dreams. 

 

“Then we will figure everything out as it comes,  _Carissime_ ,” Cas says as he nudges Dean’s chin up so their gazes meet. He can’t resist the use of the ancient endearment when Dean is looking at him with so much wonder. The Latin rolls off his tongue easily as if he’s been calling Dean his dearest his entire life. Cas leans forward and draws Dean into a gentle kiss, needing the contact to express the depth of his emotion that words could never hope to capture. 

 

Cas pours his promise of eternal devotion in the light brush of the lips and he parts readily when Dean’s tongue presses forward, asking for entry. This is everything Castiel has ever wanted, everything his dreams have been leading him toward and he’s never felt anything more right. 

 

Dean pulls back and meets Castiel’s gaze with a tender smile that has Cas’ heart soaring. 

They have much to discuss, their dreams, their more recent pasts, but Cas is sure all will come in good time. 

 

Because now? They have time. 

 

Now, they have the freedom to truly be equals and their relationship will be accepted. Society will not destroy them simply for loving one another. 

 

From Ancient Rome to the Plains of Asphodel, to modern times; they’ve returned to the place where their hearts first touched. Somehow, their souls kept the promise they made so many centuries ago and here they stand, together. 

 

Cas soul aches with all that lays behind and ahead of them. So many possibilities await. Castiel doesn't know where to begin, but as long as Dean’s hand is in his, Cas doesn't care. 

 

“You ready?” Dean asks, the question so much more weighted than the simple words would imply. 

 

“Let’s go,” Cas replies with a smile. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you all enjoyed this final chapter and are filled with warm fuzzy feelings to carry you through the weekend.
> 
> Look for a couple of timestamps to post within the next couple of weeks. Afterall, Cas does need to meet Sam...

**Author's Note:**

> If you enjoy this, I treasure comments and kudos like a dragon hoards gold...


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